


Desire and Lust

by FicticiousDelicious



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bisexuality, Drama, Drugs, F/F, F/M, Gen, Heterosexuality, Homosexuality, Love, M/M, Multi, Other, Prostitution, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Supernatural Elements, Suspense, Violence, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Work In Progress, Yaoi, Yuri, transcendence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2019-05-18 02:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 62
Words: 270,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14843549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FicticiousDelicious/pseuds/FicticiousDelicious
Summary: Ichigo [19yrs] was just another student until he met a divinely sexy stripper with more to offer than just his body…not that there is anything wrong with enjoying a pleasurable body. An outside the box story of transcendence, sex, and willpower.This story is ongoing, keep checking for new chapters.I originally published this on a-ff.org in 2012.!!Disclaimer!! I do not own the characters mentioned in Desire and Lust nor do I make any profit of any kind from their mention. Ownership of these Bleach characters goes to Tite Kubo. I do not own or profit from the mentioned manufactures Lamborghini, Mazda, Porsche, Ford, Lincoln, Jaguar.All Characters © Tite Kubo; All mentioned Lamborghini vehicles © Lamborghini;  All mentioned Mazda vehicles © Mazda; All mentioned Porsche vehicles © Porsche; All mentioned Ford vehicles © Ford; All mentioned Lincoln vehicles © Lincoln; All mentioned Jaguar vehicles © JaguarDeviantArt.com/FicticiousDelicious or FicticiousDelicious.Tumblr.com





	1. Things to Be Desired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: yargh…there be strippers heeeere, sexy things, alcohol
> 
> Looking for the pictures that were on this chapter? I moved them to chapter 21 "Statuesque".  
> They seemed more fitting there.
> 
> Enjoy the reading!

 

**Chapter One**

_“Things to Be Desired”_

 

 

            This was not his normal behavior; it hardly felt normal that anyone would come here so casually. The loud club beat pounded in Ichigo’s skull and his ears strained to hear what his friends were trying to say to him, eventually he just gave up trying to listen. This place felt so strange to him, it left over his senses a lazy haze. Here was an exotic dance joint and a nineteen-year-old Ichigo was hardly adjusted to its flaring strobe lights blinding him as they traveled over the surfaces and walls, and the blaring music that vibrated powerfully through the soles of his shoes. Despite that the music was little more than a slight distraction to Ichigo, as displayed on individually lit platforms mostly naked entertainers were enthralling to watch and drew in the most of Ichigo’s attention while he sat on a stool reclining against the bar. Just watching was waking an appetite for a firm body to use for his pleasure. Though he was enjoying himself, Ichigo still felt that he was out of place. Perhaps if he had been given the opportunity to slink down to strip joints more often he would have been conditioned by now. In all honesty he would have taken every single chance he was given to sit in a place like this and watch oiled bodies perform. It was something that he felt like he could get used to.

 

            It was uncanny, Ichigo realized, how difficult it was to tear his eyes from a particular dancer he was watching to ensure the margarita he was drinking didn’t end up on his nice button-down shirt. The shirt was new and Ichigo didn’t want to take it off any sooner than he might have to. He watched the light cerulean-haired dancer drop down on the polished pole and followed every inch of the man’s moving body as he rose with his hips leaning into the pole. He’d strip for someone like that.

 

            The lights began to shift so they fell over the entertainers’ heads in long beams of bright light that left their oiled bodies gleaming. White light, it was concealing some of their lower extremities with dim shadows and giving each dancer a mysterious, bright glow upon the surface of their sensual skin. Ichigo could make out the shapes of this cerulean-haired one’s groin but just barely. His dancer wasn’t wearing a tight thong like many others but did wear tight leather bondage cuffs around his ankles, that was it. Ichigo was tormented by the partially lit upward curve bouncing between the man’s thighs.

 

            There was a sudden snap of fingers that moved in front of Ichigo and blocked his view. Ichigo initially flinched and glared over at the source.

 

            “Gettin’ a lil’ absorbed are ya, Ichi?” Nnoitora sneered and his toothy smile practically curled. He maintained a stare from the corner of his eye at Ichigo as he raised his beer and drank down a long gulp.

 

            _'He never quits…does he?'_ Ichigo’s inner monologue ran as he paused to find the right words, watching his friend’s Adam’s apple bob. “What makes you think I’m absorbed?”

 

            Nnoitora lowered his beer and exhaled heavily, gesturing with bottle in hand at Ichigo’s crotch, a prominent hard-on was rising up under the fabric.

 

            Ichigo’s head twisted away. Damn. How embarrassing to be so obvious. His elbows lifted from leaning on the bar’s counter as he moved to hunch over his lap.

 

            Nnoitora’s high pitched cackle sounded as he swiveled on his chair, facing forward, and set to finish draining his beer. He finished the last and clacked the empty bottle down behind him, now scanning the room, seeking something of interest. After a few minutes Nnoitora’s eyes sparked catching sight of what he personally wanted. He nudged Ichigo’s arm, “The rest'a 'em went an’ found a booth off ta the side. Don’ blow all yer money on jus’ one slut's ass.” With that the excessively lean man got up and stalked off into the club’s crowd.

 

            Those were really the perfect words to describe what Ichigo thought he wanted, but he wasn’t bold enough to take Nnoitora’s advice. From here at the bar Ichigo could see the ‘rest of them’ in a booth; Yammy had his face buried in some large breasted girl’s chest and Starrk was groping at her body. They weren’t so much Ichigo’s friends as they were Nnoitora’s.

 

            Ichigo’s eyes returned to the cerulean-haired dancer, the lights overhead still made it hard to catch even a brief glimpse of his bare length, but finally when the man kneeled down on the edge of the platform his cock, long, thick and raging hard came into full view at last. It sure looked heavy…and _big_. Ichigo spotted a small black band encircling around its base, a cock ring; he craned his neck a little. What Ichigo would give to be up on that stage pressing up behind him, teasing him, rubbing against him, playing with him. The crotch of his jeans felt horribly tight now, watching the man’s erection bounce as he spread his knees far apart and dropped down on all fours as the light’s raised, leaning out into his crowding audience. Ichigo watched as he touched a few peoples’ cheeks chastely before drawing back.

 

            Albeit a little jealous, Ichigo couldn’t take it any longer; marking the cerulean-haired god from a distance was maddening. He needed a taste, no matter what it cost…and so Ichigo’s cowardice and sensibility was forgotten. Leaving his margarita glass on the bar with some bills, Ichigo’s form rose and stepped forward into the crowd. He elbowed his way through and got closer to the platform, the rise was about to chest height which made the audience press tighter together at the front. Ichigo stood relatively calm though his groin pulsed savagely; he could spot the entertainer between several heads. Ichigo had to get just a little closer…so he wedged himself between a man and a woman and rested his chest against the stage. This was a whole new perspective! With young, lustful eyes Ichigo watched with bated breath as the entertainer’s form swayed in time with the music as he remained kneeling on the stage showing off everything he had. Ichigo felt hot, faint hot. The entertainer crouched on his toes and leaned back without moving his feet while keeping his knees bent he reached back to grab the gleaming pole - supporting his backward leaning weight with the grip. Ichigo was dying to have something to call this perfect sexual specimen...maybe a name. Ichigo's hands were sweating and he rubbed his slick fingertips together at his sides, he should go and find a secluded spot to rub this one off, but it was impossible to look away.

 

            The dancer’s long, toned body writhed directly in front of Ichigo in slow thrusting movements with legs spread accompanied by an open mouth. The long shaft between muscular thighs was nestled in a patch of well-trimmed blue curls. It bounced again between upward thrusts. Its head was dripping with clear precum. At the wide base it strained against the restricting plastic ring and bulged with thick veins, blushing the color of its strain. Ichigo didn’t know how much more he could take…seeing this sweat drenched god before him. Ichigo longed to probe the innermost of this man; his fists balled. Fuck, he needed to move and find a place to jerk-off. The man’s hips jerked up in time to the last few beats of the song playing.

 

            While the cerulean-haired entertainer pulled himself back up to stand and strike a final flirtatious pose next to the pole, Ichigo was stuck in a daze feeling a bit intimidated.

 

            Grimmjow looked down from his platform at the audience he’d collected and grinned. His balls hurt like hell but damn was this a crowd! Hold on... Grimmjow paused as his gaze fell on a handsome but dazed face below. This guy didn’t seem all there but he had an enticing look about him with a black button-down partially undone shirt and that striking orange colored hair framing his firm face. Not to mention those hazel eyes glowing brightly in the stage lights. Handsome as hell. Grimmjow crouched down and whispered beside the young man’s ear in a husky, lustful tone, “Ya got a name, stud?”

 

            Not really able to believe that he’d been noticed, Ichigo could barely nod in response; he was also unable to get his mind off the aching erection in his jeans.

 

            Grimmjow chuckled shortly, “Well…what is it then?”

 

            Ichigo was flustered beyond belief and blushing brightly. “I-Ichigo.” He managed a stammered but quiet response.

 

            “I like that look you’re giving me, and you’re pretty hot, so I’m gonna check up on ya, Ichigo. Wait for me over at the bar. I’ll be over there in a few minutes.”

 

            Ichigo hesitated and nodded dumbly. This wasn't reality...it couldn't be.

 

            Oh but it was… The entertainer rose and looked over the audience, raising two lone middle fingers high in the air from which he got a cheering response. Lowering his hands, he walked back up the catwalk. Light clinking from the bondage ankle cuffs followed him the whole way until he disappeared behind a curtain hiding the back dressing area for dancers.

 

            Ichigo watched his strong figure the _whole_ way. The back of that man was as attractive as the front; he had some serious back. The crowd began to lessen and Ichigo weaved around numerous people to get back to the bar before he collapsed. His head would not stop spinning now and his dick would not stop throbbing. He clung to the counter and wished he could just disappear off into some corner and jerk off until the pressure was relieved, but then he might miss that tasty stripper if he was really coming to meet him. That was too good an opportunity to risk missing out on. Luckily for Ichigo it didn’t take long for his interesting new pal to get dressed, and the man hadn't been joking about checking up on him either. Within the next ten minutes Ichigo anxiously picked out a bobbing shock of cerulean hair moving toward him. Thank god…

Bonus Art:

 


	2. Enticing Greetings with Benefits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: oral sex and naked things

**Chapter Two**

_“Enticing Greetings with Benefits”_

 

 

            As Grimmjow drifted closer to the bar, his eyes couldn’t help glancing down. He was pretty curious and surprised to see this tangerine haired stud with such a large bulge pressing up on the jean material. _'Poor bastard, that shit could break the fuckin’ zipper.'_ Seamlessly he moved up next to Ichigo and leaned up against the bar counter.

 

            Ichigo had noticed the man’s vivid eyes glance at his groin and felt sweat drip down the back of his neck. From restraining himself Ichigo’s muscles were horribly tense and his breath was shaking. It was a lost cause to try and mask these things. The young man nodded at Grimmjow in acknowledgement but struggled to keep eye contact.

 

            Grimmjow chuckled and leaned up to Ichigo’s ear as he had on stage, whispering in the same low, seductive tone as before, “That looks painful…I didn’t realize I was delayin' ya from taking care of that but it’d be a damn shame for ya to take care of it _alone_ …” Grimmjow purposefully let the last part of his suggestion hang and got back a wide-eyed stare from the young man.

 

            The offer was so tempting. Oddly enough, despite his desperate physical need Ichigo still wanted something to call this dancer foremost. “…your name?”

 

            Grimmjow stood up strait and smirked, snaking his arm around Ichigo and pulling the young man up stiffly next to him in a side-hug’s manner. “Grimmjow, but Grimm works.” That was his real name, he hardly gave it out but he thought it would be harmless tonight with this handsome stranger.

 

            After hearing the name Ichigo cussed under his breath as his groin pulsed hard. That was all it took for the entertainer to start leading him away to take care of business. The cerulean haired man was laughing at him, very loud in fact. Ichigo wished that he wouldn’t make such a scene; after all it was Grimmjow’s body’s fault that he had gotten so hard…

 

            They scaled a curtain covered wall and Grimmjow counted sections of curtains until he found the one that concealed a small hallway with an emergency exit at the end. He pulled Ichigo behind the curtain and the young man sagged against the carpeted wall, with slightly spread legs, in the dim hallway breathing heavily.

 

            Grimmjow knelt down before the tormented body and unzipped his own solid black hoodie, casting it to the side and leaving his torso bare and exposed. “If I’d have known ya were gonna need some personal relief immediately I wouldn’t have gotten fuckin’ dressed.” He found Ichigo’s dilemma especially amusing for one reason or another. He carefully worked around the large bulge and got Ichigo’s jeans unbuttoned as he talked.

 

            Ichigo was bordering on the realm of unconsciousness or something that felt the same; he felt really aroused but really faint. He liked the fact that Grimmjow wasn’t asking him anymore questions because he could barely understand what the man was saying.

 

            Slowly zipping down over the bulge, a part of Grimmjow’s imagination wondered if this cock was going to spring up and slap him in the face. It was a fun thought to entertain until he realized Ichigo was also wearing thin boxers underneath his jeans. _'Damn. No wonder this guy's sufferin'; that thing ain’t got any room to move.'_ Grimmjow dropped the jeans down past Ichigo’s knees and the younger man’s erection lifted up the light fabric far. He didn’t bother wasting time trying to fit Ichigo’s length through the small slit in his boxers; he just pulled them carefully down over the erection and dropped them over the jeans around Ichigo’s ankles.

 

            Ichigo’s arms and back tensed as his hard, leaking cock sprang up. Freed it met with the open air. He flushed bright red and his body resumed its subtle shaking from strain. “Just hurry up…please,” he begged with an insistent tone.

 

            Grimmjow was surprised, it was so hard. The veins stood up tall and balls behind this cock were tense. He stuck his tongue out and licked up dripping precum that had leaked over Ichigo’s shaft. One hand was squeezed the young man’s thigh and the other held Ichigo’s cock up by its base. Hands full of meat...flesh. Grimmjow spoke to the desperate fellow before him, “Ya couldn't choke me if ya tried so have some fun with this, ok?” His words were accompanied by a well-timed wink and had an oddly submissive ring to them.

 

            Ichigo loved that ‘serving to please’ tone of voice and behavior. Hands had moved to Grimmjow’s soft blue hair, lightly fisted, Ichigo guided the man’s open mouth down on him. Feeling the mouthing and then the wet squeezing of Grimmjow’s throat as he was swallowing his cock made Ichigo make a face of ecstasy. Renji had never gone down on him like this… Maybe it was because he was too big, but this godly entertainer made this blowjob feel otherworldly. With a body that could slay and some serious skill sucking dick that was truly a great combination. What else could Grimmjow do?

 

            Grimmjow stroked any part of the shaft that wasn't in his mouth. His grip was firm, massaging the hard flesh, working it as he alternated between deep-throating and sucking up to Ichigo's glans. There was a rhythm he followed by how he felt the recipient reacting. _'He’s practically vibrating in my fuckin’ mouth he’s so shaky.'_

 

            Ichigo was very distressed that he wasn’t climaxing faster because the pressure and pleasure just kept rolling through his member and balls in hard waves. Grimmjow had said he could do whatever he liked to have 'fun', right? Tightening a hold on the man’s hair Ichigo started to thrust as the man's mouth came down on his cock. The slippery tongue and wet lips moving against his shaft…the friction now…it was all so fucking great. Ichigo felt his dick jerk and twitch with further excitement. He would be able to cum like this.

 

            Unphased Grimmjow smirked internally and practically unhinged his jaw to take the pounding to his face. Ooh, he loved this.

 

            Ichigo shuddered, finally going over the edge. He bucked hard, really shoving his cock down Grimmjow's willing throat harshly and shuddered as he came. “Fuck… Grimmjow…oh fuck…!”

 

            There was so much! A fair amount had shot into his mouth but most of it had gone strait down his throat; warm semen not yet swallowed spread across his tongue. There was a particular tang to semen that Grimmjow liked so he swallowed after he was done tasting it. Grimmjow slid the cock out of his throat and started sucking this stud’s glans with his hand pumping the shaft for the last bit of cream he could get.

 

            Ichigo took control as his senses started to return; he had a bit more to give. He grabbed Grimmjow’s shoulder and shoved the other man back and took his cock away from the greedy fellow while stroking it roughly. “Open your mouth.”

 

            Grimmjow’s lips curled into a quick smirk before he obediently held his mouth open and his tongue flat for a shot to the face. Ichigo’s second round hit him right below the nose on his upper lip. Cum had splattered all over his cheeks and dripped to his shaven lower jaw. Grimmjow sat cross legged and wiped his face clean, licking the cum from his fingers. “That was a lot.”

 

            Ichigo sank down the wall in front of the other man, exhausted. “You looked thirsty…” the younger droned his joke, making both of them chuckle. Ichigo noted, in his after-sex daze, Grimmjow trying to clean off his face. Making an effort to lean forward, on all fours he supported the weight of his torso on his hands and lightly licked Grimmjow’s cheek. He’d never experimented and tested what he tasted like. It was salty!

 

            Grimmjow was caught by surprise when Ichigo leaned in and licked him. Ichigo held underneath his jaw, laying gentle kisses with flicks of the tongue over the splattered mess. “Like your own taste, huh?” He sneered and grabbed Ichigo’s jaw in return and forced his lips on the young man’s, extracting a moan.

 

            Pretty quickly they moved into exchanging tongues, and Grimmjow's entire mouth tasted of his semen, hot and salty. Ichigo’s dominant nature reared up and he pushed Grimmjow down to the floor on his back, kneeling over him. Kissing still, Ichigo ground his still semi-hard cock against the man's concealed and confined member. Two hard cocks grinding against each other, both hot with need even though one of them had just erupted. Breaking away from the kiss, Grimmjow gasped with a violent shudder but he wasn’t climaxing, making Ichigo suspect he still had that damn cock ring on. “I’ll do you a favor, Grimmjow.” He spoke gently to the breathless dancer. “Since you did me one-”

 

            Grimmjow reached to cover Ichigo's mouth. “Wait… I have this shift until ten tonight. If you're down to fuck I’m definitely up for that...but I don’t think I can explain a stretched-out hole and your cum leakin' outta my ass to my handler if he wonders where the hell I was ditching the last part of my shift.”

 

            “I could always slip a plug up that pink hole of yours after I’m done fucking you, and once your shift’s over I’ll just bind up your wrists and ankles, take it out with my teeth and eat you out…”

 

            Surprised that such a dirty suggestion had come out of such a handsome mouth Grimmjow's dick twitched at that suggestion. “You're a kinky fucker for lookin' so cute and young, ya know that?” He gave a wide smirk.

 

            “I just like to play..." Ichigo mentioned with his hazel eyes gleaming of mischief.

 

            Grimmjow sucked on Ichigo’s earlobe, enjoying the close proximity of the second body against his own. “Oh yea?” The man chuckled. “Well that’s genuinely tough to turn down, but my handler _really_ doesn’t like us fuckin’ around during shifts without turning in a cut to him.”

 

            In the instance of this mention Ichigo came to realize that Grimmjow hadn’t asked for _anything_ from him for this. A free blowjob? Wow...that was pretty charitable for a stripper. Almost too good to be true. Ichigo’s hands roamed Grimmjow’s body and he mumbled, “I could pay you.”

 

            A sigh escaped the exotic man’s lips, “I don’t want your money.”

 

            “Why not?”

 

            “I just don’t. I’m not interested in gettin' paid. I was- am interested in _you_.” Grimmjow enunciated the last few words clearly without his slight accent.

 

            That made Ichigo consider his situation in more depth, “You just met me though-”

 

            “That doesn’t really matter. I didn't tell ya about a fee so I ain't gonna try and set one up now, if there’s supposed to be one I say so up front. I’m interested in your body, not makin' bank off ya, ok?”

 

“You don’t even have to keep the money, just give it to your boss and tell him you’re-”

 

            “I don’t want your fucking money!” Grimmjow snapped.

 

            “Alright! Alright…so… I’m sorry, I just want to be fair.”

 

            In favor of relaxing the situation now Grimmjow leaned and kissed the lusty young man’s cheek and let his hands roam the second body. “I consider this very fair. I want to fool around with you. I’ll give ya a checkup after ten when I finish my shift, and I’ve got a car so ya just gotta tell me where you'll be.”

 

            For some reason Ichigo wasn’t concerned at all about getting into a car with this relative stranger. “As long as you feel like you’re getting something that you want out of this.”

 

            Grimmjow sat up and moved over next to Ichigo, resting his head on the closest of the kid's shoulders. “Thanks.”

 

            What could be so interesting and attractive about himself that this sexy entertainer would want? Ichigo figured Grimmjow could have anyone he wanted so he tried not to feel too special even though he was excited.

 

            The two sat in silence for a good few minutes, the cerulean haired man's head rested on Ichigo’s shoulder and Ichigo’s hand had found its way down to Grimmjow’s zipper. He pulled the material to the sides and freed the hard dick constrained in Grimmjow’s pants and was slowly and gently stroking it. Ichigo still wanted to see this man cum, badly.

 

            Grimmjow whined in some pain as he was touched, breath hitching.

 

            Afraid he was hurting Grimmjow, Ichigo moved his hand to the tip and massaged his head. “Sorry, didn’t mean to-”

 

            “Not ya. It’s this fucking cock ring. Your hand’s fine.”

 

            “Why don’t you take it off? I’ll get you wet and it’ll slide off easy.”

 

            “Can’t,” Grimmjow retarded quickly.

 

            “Of course you can. Here, let me see it.” Ichigo leaned over and held the shaft as he kissed and sucked the head into his moist mouth.

 

            “Nghh!” Grimmjow was already desperate to get rid of his hard-on and caught up in the moment he disregarded the thought of consequence. Ichigo’s mouth on him was a great fucking thing. His dick suddenly pulsed and quickly Grimmjow made a gesture to pull the young man up.

 

            “What the hell Grimmjow?” Ichigo snapped, licking thick precum from his lips.

 

            Looking breathless, Grimmjow ignored him for the moment and regained control over his erection, leaking heavily with stream after stream of his clear fluids. His breathing was extremely hard. “It's part of a deal. I’m not allowed.” The burn returned to his member and the sack below as they begged for more attention.

 

            “'Not allowed to what?” Ichigo questioned, irritated. “Not allowed to cum?” The entertainer nodded wordlessly. Ichigo eyed him, what the fuck was that bullshit? “Says who?”

 

            “He’s an important client of mine.”

 

            “How the hell would he know if you came once? I’ll put the ring back on after you cum, and I’ll even suck you off until you’re hard again.”

 

            Grimmjow stared at the ceiling and was dead silent save for the sound of his slowing breathing.

 

            This reaction made Ichigo worry a little more. “Grimm?” The cerulean head didn’t turn and his lips didn’t try to speak. “Grimmjow, hey...” Ichigo nagged.

 

With a finalizing shake of his head Grimmjow tucked his boner back into his pants and zipped them back up with effort. “Let me help ya get dressed.” He was dismissing the subject; it was not up for more discussion. Grimmjow rose up to a standing position and extended a hand to Ichigo who gladly clasped it and was pulled to his feet. The boxers and pants Grimmjow had yanked down were still about Ichigo’s ankles and before pulling them back up Grimmjow knelt and licked every inch of Ichigo’s thighs and still partially hard cock clean of any extra semen. When he was finished he straitened his legs and held Ichigo by the shoulders after pulling up the young man’s boxers and pants. “Is there anything I missed doing for ya?”

 

            Grinning, Ichigo and shook his head. “You were very thorough, thank you. I’ll swing by in my car later to come get you tonight.”

 

            “I told ya,” Grimmjow hissed, “I have a car. We’ll use mine.”

 

            “Oh, I almost forgot you said that. What kind of car am I looking for then?”

 

            “A Lamborghini Murcielago, solid black paint, custom build but it still looks like a Lamborghini. It should have been parked out front if ya saw it.”

 

            Ichigo froze for a second not expecting that kind of an answer at all. A Mustang or a Porsche maybe... A Lamborghini though... He looked stunned. No wonder he wanted to use his car.

 

            “Even added in a backseat for extra room…” his lips brushed the skin on Ichigo’s neck, “…and anyone who wants to take a ride.” Moving away with a light, playful laugh Grimmjow snatched up his black jacket off the floor and brushed it off before putting it back on and zipping it halfway up.

 

            “I might be just a little late getting back here if my family needs me for anything first but I’ll be here close to ten. I promise.”

 

            “No problem, just fuckin' get here. I _really_ don't like bein' stood up.”

 

            Who in their right mind would stand-up someone who looked like Grimmjow? Ichigo boggled at the thought. Meanwhile Grimmjow slipped out of the hallway subtly. When Ichigo snapped out of his own thoughts the entertainer was gone. Ichigo moved out from the small hallway and searched for a shock of cerulean in the crowd but he didn’t see such a color in the mass of lingering bodies. Oh well. He believed that he’d see that man again soon. Ichigo sighed happily, disregarding that his 'friends', who were still around somewhere, were his ride back home. He made his way along the wall and out the club’s main door. Stepping out into the chilly air of dusk Ichigo paused in front of the main entrance, glanced to the right and then the left searching for Grimmjow’s car. A sleek, jet black sportscar was parked in the farthest spot to the left of him. Seemed like Grimmjow wasn't a liar, but who said the car was really Grimmjow's? Ichigo had a gut feeling though...he could trust what the man said even though Grimmjow was a ‘too good to be true’ guy driving a ‘too good to be true’ car…with ‘too good to be true’ skills. Jeeze, what kind of adventure had he gotten himself into? Ichigo moseyed over to the sidewalk and set out to walk to the bus stop and get a ride home.


	3. A Secret Better Unkempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: light mentions of sex and naked things

**Chapter Three**

_“A Secret Better Unkempt”_

 

 

            Ichigo had gotten home a lot later than he’d figured he would by taking the bus and then walking the rest of the way; it had taken forty-five minutes instead of thirty. When he walked through the front door he could hear the television on. Ichigo noiselessly closed the door and placed his shoes off to the side before moving further into the house. He wanted to avoid being seen by his two sisters who he noticed were using the T.V. to watch evening cartoons. He crept up the stairs silently and past his father’s door which was wide open with no one in sight. His dad must still be out doing something for work. Ichigo continued to his own room, closing the door behind him he approached the bed. After setting his alarm clock for nine twenty he fell face down into his plush pillow and was asleep in a matter of minutes.

 

~

 

            Ichigo recognized a dull sound, then it was a disconcerting buzzing in his ears as he slowly opened his tired eyes and stared at the clock. The haze of sleep made it impossible to read the clock’s numbers but as it came into focus an involuntary yell escaped. Ichigo jerked upright and hit the alarm to turn off the sound; it was fifteen minutes past ten. Oh god no! He’d missed Grimmjow for sure! Despite his probably hopeless tardiness, Ichigo leapt from the bed and darted to his closet, tugging a jacket from its hanger and stumbled for his door, half bent over and fumbling to pull off his socks with the jacket tucked under his arm. Ichigo yanked open the door and froze, seeing one of his sisters go into the room the two girls shared across the hall from him. He could tell from the lighter hair that it was Yuzu and she hadn’t seemed to notice him behind her as she closed the door. Ichigo sighed with relief; the last thing he wanted to have to do was lie to his sister about where he had been and was going now. He certainly couldn’t tell her the truth.

 

            After she had closed the door Ichigo scrambled to the bathroom and in very rapid fashion brushed his teeth, stripped, and jumped into the shower. He washed up quickly, thinking of Grimmjow’s body the entire time as warm water poured over him; he could feel himself getting hard off of just the thought of that man and had to force himself to stop thinking, knowing it was wasting time. If he missed this opportunity he would be mad at himself and Grimmjow would probably wouldn’t give him another chance. It was better to show up clean if Grimmjow was waiting around for him though. Clean and late was better than just plain late. Ichigo rinsed lathered soap out of his hair and off his skin and tried to jump out of the shower quickly only to trip and land hard on one knee against the tile floor. He grimaced and held the joint. Ouch… “Shit.” He stood up and tried to bend his knee. It hurt a lot but he would still be able to walk. He patted dry and grabbed his clothes from the floor and pulled them on quickly, ruffled his wet hair in front of the mirror and darted out of the bathroom. His knee hurt really bad but the young man ignored it. Ichigo booked it to the front door and bent to grab his shoes. The handle of the front door creaked and raised immediate alarm with him. Oh no… Ichigo was certain it was his dad finally coming home from work. In an instant Ichigo had his shoes clutched to his chest and even faster he was around the corner, into the living room, and out the sliding door to the backyard. He didn’t know if he’d been seen, just kept running. His knee was hot with pain! Ichigo approached the high brick wall around their backyard and slipped his shoes on over his grass stained socks and climbed up and over.

 

            Jumping down onto the sidewalk below, Ichigo reduced his reaction to a wince from the pain in his knee. Ichigo looked from side to side, remembering which street he was on and which way he needed to go. He broke into a sprint despite his pain, wondering if Grimmjow had waited or forgotten about him.

 

~

 

            It was forty minutes past ten when Ichigo approached the front door of the strip-club, and that was only because he’d caught the last bus _just_ as it was leaving. Looking around outside Ichigo saw Grimmjow’s car, the man was still here! Thanking his lucky stars the young man limped inside and a guard quickly blocked him from walking further into the club. Oh right… Ichigo reached into his back pocket and showed the guard his ID. His fake ID… It said that Ichigo was twenty-two, his real age was nineteen. The ID was good enough every time, and Ichigo was let into the club. He’d paid a small fortune for that little card. Gosh, his fucking knee was killing him.

 

            Anxiously Ichigo scanned the roaring, crowded main room for the cerulean color of Grimmjow’s hair. Surprisingly at this time of night the club was no less rowdy. Ichigo walked around pedestals to check the dancers but none were Grimmjow; he passed by the bar to see if he might be there, but no luck. Reaching the opposite side of the room Ichigo frowned, dismayed. It was a week night and way late past their arranged time…Grimmjow might have found another person to leave with. No…there was no way he’d leave a car like that in this place’s parking lot. Ichigo felt compelled to continue his search. Moving toward the booths Ichigo casually walked past and peeked at a few of them. His godly dancer wasn’t there. What about the back rooms? He knew this club had a hall of them at the back past the dancefloor.

 

            Now Ichigo squinted and looked around the booming room until he saw a dimly lit hallway with a guard blocking it off. He’d have to distract the big guy and slip past him to check out that corridor. Ichigo walked to the dancefloor in front of the hallway and mingled with the half-drunk, swaying mass of people. He figured a fight would be the easiest distraction to cause. He’d have to find someone drunk enough to be stupid. Ichigo located such a fellow who was already bothering a woman. Ichigo shuffled past and elbowed him and the drunk fell face-first into her breasts. The woman started raging. The drunk was slapped back into another man who fell to the ground and Ichigo slunk to the edge of the dancefloor’s crowd to watch the guard. The fallen man jumped right back up and yelled something, the drunk yelled back and the sober man stepped in closer to throw a punch. Ichigo was far enough on the edge of the dancing crowd to watch the hall and not be caught up in the fight which gradually got larger as mostly male bodies pushed each other around. Finally the guard caught sight of the ruckus and moved from his post. Ichigo sprang as soon as the guard stepped up onto the neon lit floor.

 

            Quickly the young man disappeared past the hall’s entrance, pushing cheesy hanging door-beads aside and stared down the corridor with about ten doors on either side and stairs at the end of the stretch. His knee pulsed a few times, still not happy to be used so rigorously. Ichigo listened with his ear to the closed doors for a voice like Grimmjow’s and peeked through the slits of cracked open doors for the cerulean color. Some things he heard and saw he wished he hadn’t; these rooms were places where sinful people did the most shameful of things.

 

            Eventually Ichigo was at the end of the hall and out of doors to inspect. He feared the guard coming back and looked to the stairs in front of him for a place to dash should he be spotted snooping around. He hadn’t planned an exit strategy so he was rather cornered. Ichigo glanced up and couldn’t tell what was up there but he figured he could at least check in case it was a way out. The young man moved up the white carpeted steps and came to a set of shoji sliding doors, the paper that covered them was thin and there was dim, flickering light behind the doors. Ichigo could hear people in the background and a soft clanking sound. He found a corner of the doors he figured no one would look closely at and poked a small hole with his nail. He peered through.

 

            Ichigo’s cheeks immediately flushed. There was a man on the ground laying on his back with spread legs and another man between that one’s legs thrusting at a fast pace, effectively fucking him. The one with his back on the floor had his head turned away from Ichigo and was half in shadow as he panted and moaned with his hands tied together over his head. Ichigo couldn’t see his face but he fantasized how he might look while this other man, a brunette, fucked him. This was was actually a little hot compared to the rest of what he’d heard in this hallway… Ichigo was suddenly forgetful about his need for an exit. The snooping young man’s wandering eye was mesmerized watching the erotic scene through the hole in the door and found himself unable to stop imagining the submissive’s expression while watching the man’s free erection bounce with the thrusts. This guy had a huge cock, with a black ring about its base…and blue curls… Ichigo’s gaze narrowed. Those details… A cock ring and that hair color…? Where had he-? Ichigo almost choked at the realization; that ring _and_ the cerulean curls around the base were undeniable. That was Grimmjow!


	4. Causing the Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: questionable sex, prostitution, and kink stuff

 

 

**Chapter Four**

_“Causing the Stress”_

 

 

            Blushing up a storm, Ichigo finally recoiled from the door and sat down on the carpet rubbing his head and listening to the loud slapping and moaning sounds from the other side of the door. Wow, he was lucky to have found Grimmjow but was unlucky enough to have caught him in the middle of something. It would have to be one heck of a coincidence having both that impossibly blue colored hair and that black ring; that was definitely his dancer. He’d have to wait- Ichigo’s thoughts scattered as he heard a loud distressed moan on the verge of pain and a dark chuckle. Ichigo kneeled before the door and looked through again, this time repulsed at what he saw.

 

            The brunette had a syringe in one hand and was injecting some kind of liquid into the side of Grimmjow’s hip. The cerulean haired man appeared to be struggling against it at first. The black leather bondage ankle cuffs Ichigo had seen on Grimmjow earlier were still there and after the brunette had taken the needle out and set the syringe aside he hooked thick silver chains to one loop on each ankle cuff and hooked the ends of the chains to metal loops screwed into the floor. The brunette moved to Grimmjow’s tied hands and wrapped a single leather strap with similar metal loops tightly around his wrists. The man used another chain and hooked the links through one more metal circle that was like the others and already screwed into the floor and made sure the chain was tight. Grimmjow looked as though he was being stretched a bit uncomfortably while the other man tightened the chains but oddly enough seemed to be just fine with that man setting up all of the restraints…

 

            Watching, Grimmjow’s body began to relax even more, and Ichigo felt really worried while still oddly turned on. His mind was behaving purely on instinct at this point.

 

            The brunette looked down on Grimmjow, tugging slightly at the restraints as though testing their strength. The dancer was completely incapacitated within minutes.

 

            Ichigo watched the brunette pick up several pieces of equipment from a table behind him and kneel over Grimmjow. The man slipped a black ball-gag roughly into Grimmjow’s mouth held in place by a leather strap. The cerulean haired man had willingly opened his mouth to receive the gag. The brunette then moved back between Grimmjow’s legs and began to toy with his erection. Ichigo was getting a bit nervous, wondering if this was normally how Grimmjow had sex.

 

            Grimmjow was biting down on the gag as his eyes gazed off into a distant somewhere while the brunette sucked his cock. Grimmjow whined when he felt his cock withdrawn from the moist cavern but tensed suddenly as the brunette brushed a thin tube against his cock’s slit.

 

            Ichigo swallowed hard, this was getting a little sick by his standards. He could guess what the man was planning to do by the obvious display and felt that maybe he should walk in on them and completely interrupt the moment so he could save Grimmjow from this. For some reason though, Ichigo didn’t move. What if Grimmjow liked this? What if this was what really got him off. Ichigo was worried…he didn’t feel like this was ok and he didn’t want to be a part of something so…odd and forced.

 

            The brunette slowly slipped the first part of the catheter inside Grimmjow’s cock. The cerulean haired man moaned muffled against the gag and grimaced as the tube was pushed further through his urethra.

 

            After the tube was far enough in the brunette took hold of his own cock and rammed himself back inside Grimmjow’s loosened hole, thrusting fast and hard, completely sheathing himself then almost completely withdrawing and repeating the pattern, fucking him again. Grimmjow’s limbs tugged at the restraints as he lay trapped beneath the other man, unable to do anything but barely struggle and receive the pounding.

 

            Ichigo spotted a small few droplets, small streams of tears streaking down the side of Grimmjow’s face from the corners of his eyes, squeezed shut. Grimmjow’s body seemed to be alright, but Ichigo was skeptical about how the man felt about this.

 

            Conflicted, Ichigo moved away from the door and crossed his legs on the white carpet. His neck bowed and his hands cupped his face, Ichigo felt strangely depressed about what’d he’d just seen. Part of him really hoped that Grimmjow wasn’t a masochist. A suppressed part of Ichigo liked watching the erotic, kinky scene, but Ichigo still didn’t like thinking of Grimmjow in that room tolerating abuse if it was that. He felt sick to his stomach, wishing to vomit and expel all that confusion and his suppressed desires. Hearing louder slapping, panting, loud yelps and other upsetting sounds like the chain restraints dragging on the floor, Ichigo jumped up from his place and leaped half way down the stairs in a desperate scramble to get away from the noise. He'd hurt his knee again on the landing and leaned against a wall in the hallway, far enough from the stairs that he definitely wouldn’t be able to hear it. He stayed in shade of the hallway so the guard at the end wouldn’t notice him; that guy was facing away from the hall anyway – expecting more rabble trying to get in than out. The young man slumped against the wall in the dark hallway and slid down, covering his face with his hands. Ichigo wanted to scream, but he was too confused to think of what he would be bellowing about. Grimmjow was a whore, he slept with people and let them do terrible things to him for money. That made Grimmjow a whore, right? Ichigo teared up instead, sniffling softly, because thinking of Grimmjow as a whore wasn’t how he wanted to picture the man who had turned down his offer of money. Grimmjow could be more than just a stripper but not a whore, right? Grimmjow was too…wonderful to be just a whore… Rattled thoroughly, Ichigo sobbed to himself as quietly as he could; he was so conflicted and stressed out. He wasn’t familiar with the dynamics of prostitution but was being met with them full force and it was so unsettling to this young man.

 


	5. Mending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: mentions DICKS. :)

**Chapter Five**

_“Mending”_

 

 

            Ichigo was half asleep when he felt a light hand on his shoulder. It gave him a start and he recoiled from the touch, bumping his head against the wall behind him. A blurry, thin figure knelt down beside him and lightly squeezed at his shoulder and shook him gently to wake him. “Ichi, yer a fuckin’ mess. Wipe tha’ shit off yer face. Ya look like ya been cryin’.”

 

            Ichigo wiped at his eyes with the backs of his hands, they felt sore. He must have dozed off. The young man looked over at Nnoitora, surprised to see that his friend had found him. “You’re here awfully late, aren’t you?”

 

            “Speak fer yer damn self ya hypocrite. Wha’ the hell’re ya doin’ ‘round ‘ere so late? My pals said ya left.”

 

            “I…went off to do something.” Ichigo straitened his back slightly and pressed his hands against the floor. “What’s your excuse?”

 

            Nnoitora snickered and got a devilish smirk. “Leavin’ earlier to go find someone paid off.”

 

            “Huh?”

 

            “Laid, Ichi.” Nnoitora chuckled aloud. “Aw, an’ ya don’ believe me do ya?”

 

            “It’s not that.” Ichigo shook his head, staring down at the carpet and sighed.

 

            “Yer bein’ a real downer tonigh’, the fuck ‘appened ta yer good mood? Last time I saw ya wasn’ tha’ long ago an’ ya were havin’ a damn good time eye fuckin' tha’ dancer guy shakin’ his ass.” Nnoitora had to try not to cackle again, sensing Ichigo’s tension, but it was really hard not to. “Ya actually go meet ‘im?”

 

            Ichigo nodded slowly and glanced at the stairs. “Yea, we talked, I guess he liked me and said to meet him back here at ten…” Ichigo paused to decide what to say next. “…but I, heh…I got here forty minutes late and I couldn’t find him.” Ichigo lied.

 

            Nnoitora clapped Ichigo solidly on the shoulder and sighed. “Heavy shit man, tha’ sucks. ‘e looked like a real peach, might see ‘im later though, but all tha’ still doesn’ s’plain why yer in this hall. Ya know these rooms are off limits ta-”

 

            Ichigo kicked Nnoitora in the shin. “Shut up. You’re going to get me caught.”

 

            “Eh, fuck gettin’ caught.” The thin man clutched Ichigo’s arm around its bicep and squeezed once hard. “Yer already caught. Look, I’ve got a room out fer ‘bout thirty more minutes if yer up fer some stress relief, ya feel me?”

 

            Ichigo eyed his dangling wrist as his arm was manhandled and smiled, he'd heard similar words somewhere before. “I thought you didn’t like bending over?”

 

            “Don’t ‘ave ta fuck ta blow some stress off. Hand-job, blow-job, doesn’t bother me a damn bit if ya need one ta relax. Takin’ fuckin’ care of ya is kinda my job.”

 

            “Fine.” Ichigo allowed himself to be tugged to his feet and led over to a door. When he’d listened to the doors earlier Nnoitora’s must have been closed.

 

            The door clicked open and Nnoitora wrapped an arm around his friend, leading Ichigo inside; he gently closed the door with a soft clunk behind them. “It’s ok Ichi, you’ll feel better after this.”

 

~

 

            Ichigo stared up at the ceiling from his spot on the couch in the small room. Nnoitora had passed out naked on the plush bedding in the other corner of the room and Ichigo had moved to let him nap. They'd only taken about twenty of the thirty minutes to get each other off, both at the same time. Ichigo looked down at his limp cock hanging out and his pants around his hips. For the first time that night he could really relax. His gazed drifted to his bare feet, propped up on the arm of the couch. Amused, his wiggled his toes. He never realized how nice his feet looked, or at least they seemed pretty nice to him.

 

            Nnoitora stirred on the bed, rolling onto his right side to face Ichigo; he was groggy.

 

            Ichigo tucked his dick back into his boxers and pulled his pants up around his hips without buttoning them. "I going to get a hard drink.”

 

            "Woah, woah..." Nnoitora sat up slowly, crossing his legs.

 

            Ichigo hated hearing him say that. It made him feel childish. "Don't 'woah' me. I have a fucking ID, says I'm over twenty-one; it's completely fine."

 

            "Yea an' tha' makes it all fine, hmm?" Nnoitora was mocking him.

 

            "Well what the fuck would you do?!"

 

            The thin man chuckled and moved off the bed to collect his clothes. "I'd wait until yer friend gets fuckin' dressed so he can come with ya. I’d like a drink too."

 

            Ichigo blinked, mouth agape, unsure of what to say to that. He'd expected Nnoitora to start fussing like he used to do when he made excuses. "Uh...well...f-fine then." Ichigo crossed his arms and watched the man pulling up his pants. "Hurry up."

 

            "Hush Ichi, yer makin' a fuss over nothin'." Whatever had Ichigo in knots must have been pretty upsetting, but Nnoitora was sensitive to Ichigo's problems so he would let most of the young man’s behavior slide.

 

            After Nnoitora had finished dressing Ichigo reached for the door, a sudden forceful hand gripped his shoulder. "What now-" Ichigo whirled and was met with a gentle kiss on the forehead. Ichigo jumped back, flustered. "Stop teasing me..."

 

            "Lighten up, eh?"

 

            Ichigo blushed. It meant something past 'lighten up'. It was more the look of 'You're lashing out. Stop or I'll do something about it.' Something like that. At a point they’d been closer where Nnoitora would have tried harder to abolish the angst, but Ichigo and Nnoitora weren’t really made for each other. Nnoitora also had a serious but open relationship with a woman now, so between Ichigo and him it couldn’t be a serious commitment beyond playful friendship with occasional benefits.

 

            Nnoitora opened the door for his friend and they both walked out, letting it close with a 'thunk' and striding to the end of the hall.

 

            It took effort for Nnoitora not to cling on Ichigo, and it took effort for Ichigo to not look back at the stairs. Ichigo was determined to forget about _that_. Alcohol would help numb his memory before the thoughts could creep back in. Surely.

 

            The two stepped around the guard at the end of the hall and out into the main room, undisturbed. They wove through a small crowd; Ichigo felt a hand brush up against his butt. He turned, looking expectantly only to see Nnoitora grinning. Ichigo scowled. "Wha', Ichi? Ya lookin' at me like I did somethi-"

 

            "Knock it off." The tone of Ichigo's voice was solemn. The young man turned around again and kept walking pushing through the crowd until he got to the bar. He took up a single seat between two other people and rested heavily against the counter. He felt a hand on him again, his shoulder now. Persistent fucker that Nnoitora was, couldn't he tell that Ichigo was sick of being touched right now? "Nnoitora, stop. I'm really not in the mood for games." Ichigo growled, looking at the different labels on bottles lining the shelves behind the bar. He wondered which he should ask for. He felt the hand leave his shoulder and relaxed.

 

            "And what if I offered ya a drink?" That was NOT Nnoitora's voice, but it was familiar. Ichigo turned his head warily, he had a good guess who it might be and once his head was turned his hazel eyes went wide.

 

            Grimmjow, standing behind the young man chuckled and grinned seductively. He had no idea who or why Ichigo was so pissed off but the young man’s sultry anger was kind of hot. In one of his hands Grimmjow held a fairly small glass with some kind of drink in it, the other was at his hip, thumb in hooked his jeans' pocket coolly. Grimmjow’s clothes were nicer now; he looked good in this long white button-down shirt, and a black outlined panther creeping up the right side of the fabric seemed fitting. All of the buttons except the top one were fastened and those dark blue jeans...they made his strong legs look longer and shapely.

 

            Ichigo didn't have words for that moment. The last time he'd seen Grimmjow he was a sweaty mess. He caught sight of Nnoitora smiling at him from behind the cerulean haired man.

 

"See! Wasn't me earlier. Shoot." Nnoitora laughed. Well, well, well…if it wasn’t Ichigo’s wet dream guy.

 

            Grimmjow's body leaned to look at Nnoitora. "Friend of yours?"

 

            "Oh-" Ichigo started, but Nnoitora cut him off.

 

            "Yea, I'm his unofficial brother, Nnoitora."

 

            "Ya wanna to stick around for a drink? Me and Ichigo have a few things to talk about, but ya were here first and all."

 

            Nnoitora wanted Ichigo to 'lighten up', so if he still couldn't get his friend to perk up maybe this entertainer could. "Nah, I was jus' ‘bout ta head out. Gettin' late an' I ‘ave ta work in the fuckin' mornin'. Ya better take care’a my pal though…" Nnoitora nodded and winked shamelessly at Ichigo, who then looked even more irritated, before sauntering off. A part of Nnoitora was angry at Grimmjow for being cocky enough to grope Ichigo without warning. That was just ungentlemanly but Grimmjow seemed otherwise pretty sensible at a glance. He wouldn’t stick around for a potential dick measuring contest and fuck up what could be a really nice night for Ichigo. Oh well. Ichigo could handle this, Nnoitora had no doubt, the kid wasn’t as pure as his handsome face seemed to show. Otherwise, Grimmjow seemed alright, a pretty strait forward guy- well...other than probably being a _gay_ stripper, but he seemed safe...mostly. It was probably good that Nnoitora didn’t know that Grimmjow was something of a prostitute additionally.


	6. Fleeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: reckless behavior!

 

**Chapter Six**

_“Fleeting”_

 

 

            Holding a drink and behaving well Grimmjow watched Nnoitora the whole way, until the tall and skinny man got to the door and disappeared. He didn’t call out anything in response, he barely knew that guy, but he was observant.

 

            Noticing Grimmjow’s distraction, Ichigo took the opportunity to try and think of what to say to the handsome man. He figured talking about what he'd peeked in on Grimmjow with that other guy doing was very out of the question…even though he wanted to know more about it. Should he apologize for being late? He figured Grimmjow wouldn’t have a clue that he was late if he’d said nothing of it. He didn't get much time to think though.

 

            "So Ichi, you're pretty late." Grimm looked straight back at the young man he’d come to meet with bright eyes.

 

            Check that! He couldn’t pretend like he was on time now. Ichigo was still trying to think and trying to read Grimmjow's ominous blue eyes wasn't making it less of a task. How did Grimmjow know..? Hadn’t he been busy with that guy in the back room? Ichigo felt a slight cold sweat, but instead of playing it off he just apologized, "I’m pretty embarrassed to be honest…I kind of overslept. Sorry."

 

            Easily Grimmjow shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t annoyed. "Didn't mean to spook your friend."

 

            Finally, something a little easier to talk about. "Nah you didn't. Nnoitora doesn't scare very easily, he was just being polite." Grimmjow didn't respond, just kept grinning and staring at Ichigo with those hugely blue eyes. "Grimm?"

 

            "Hmm?" The man tipped his head slightly to the side.

 

            "What's the look for?"

 

            "Like I said before, I want to offer ya a drink."

 

            Ichigo blinked, he'd been so flustered trying to find something to say and being embarrassed that he was late that he'd forgotten, and part of him didn't want to take Grimmjow seriously.

 

            "Ya didn't really give me an answer..." The grin lessened into more a clever smile. “Do ya want a drink?”

 

            Well Grimm seemed relaxed, but if he knew what he’d seen he'd probably not be so calm... Ichigo figured that there was no way that he could have noticed no matter how observant he was. "Oh, yeah sure. I would like that." Having a drink with Grimm dressed up so nicely like this made Ichigo feel a little proud. He wondered if it was typical for Grimmjow to just slam on jeans and a hoodie like before, but this new appearance was obviously effort to look nice for him. It wasn't really surprising that Grimm would try look nice, he seemed like a classy enough guy, it was refreshing. Also…after such a rough time with that brunette who wouldn't want to clean up..?

 

            Grimmjow motioned for Ichigo to follow him. "C'mon."

 

            "Where're you going?" Ichigo was confused. The bar was _right_ here, and Grimmjow was walking away from it.

 

            "Outside, got a bottle of stuff for ya while I was waiting."

 

            “Wait! Should I follow you?!”

 

            Grimmjow laughed, “Only if you actually want that drink.”

 

            Now Ichigo felt really embarrassed. When did Grimmjow get the time to go out and presumably buy something? Ichigo ignored thinking about it harder. They walked out the front door together, the guard nodding at Grimmjow in a knowing fashion. Maybe the bouncers at the front had something to do with Grimmjow’s intel on his tardiness. They had actually let Grimmjow walk out with alcohol, the drink that the entertainer was carrying with him… Even for someone who wasn’t quite used to a place like this Ichigo did know that that was rather illegal. Curious guard dogs... The godly entertainer was leading Ichigo outside and over toward that car he'd seen before while fishing in his pocket for something, keys probably. Guess Grimm wasn't full of it about this really being his car. Walking next to the cerulean haired man sure made Ichigo feel small. There were only about three inches difference in their height but Grimmjow's face looked older, more mature like a man in his prime. 'Well developed' was that a good way to put it? Ichigo wasn't so sure of his own looks. His orange hair was so bright and his brown eyes were such a plain color- BONK! He took a step back after running into Grimmjow's shoulder because he wasn’t paying good attention; a hand shot up to grip his nose but just a bit too late. A small drop of blood dripped onto the sidewalk, very close to his bleach white, flat soled tennis shoes. "Shit." Ichigo continued to hold his nose. Damn, was there no end to the embarrassing shit he’d do tonight?

 

            Grimmjow took a second to look back, he hadn't felt the bump very much but this young man seemed to have run into him. He paused for a second, as if confused, only for a second though. He set the drink on the hood of the sleek black Lamborghini and reached over to Ichigo, realizing that the young man was bleeding a little. "Hey lemmie see..."

 

            Ichigo looked over his hand sheepishly, still holding his nose and trying to keep the blood off his clothes. He wanted to tell Grimm that he was made like a stone wall but that didn't sound very nice; it was pretty much his own fault for not watching. "I'm ok."

 

            Grimmjow’s reaching hand fell back. "Ya bleeding?" Stating the obvious.

 

            "Yeah, but it’s not bad." Ichigo gestured to the blood on the ground.

 

            The exotic man’s huge blue eyes had a softened intensity, not as bright now as before. Grimmjow pulled keys out of his pocket; the key-ring had a black metallic panther hanging on it. He slipped the key into the door and much to Ichigo's surprise it opened upward. Butterfly doors were what the car was made stock with so it wasn't unusual, just fancy. "I'll get ya a rag for ya."

 

            Ichigo nodded and took his hand off of his nose to pick up the glass. He couldn't feel the blood dripping anymore so it had probably stopped. He observed Grimmjow leaning into the car and checking under the seats for the afore mentioned rag. The cerulean haired man frowned, not finding any worthy rags, and reached across the back seat for a black jacket that Ichigo had seen him in earlier. The seats’ fancy covers had panthers on their satin covers that looked just like a certain keychain and the illustration on Grimmjow’s shirt; there was a bit of a trend here.

 

            “Try that drink in my glass if you’d like., see what ya think.”

 

            A bit curious Ichigo looked toward the glass on the sportscar’s hood, eyeing the dark wine-colored drink in it. Was that really wine? Ichigo lifted Grimm’s glass to take a sip of the suggested drink, enjoying watching Grimmjow's shirt strain against the muscle mass over his body and lift up slightly higher than the top rim of the man’s jeans. Suddenly Ichigo felt a drop of liquid roll down over his top lip followed by a small stream of blood that dripped into the glass. "Oh…damnit…" muttering a curse he’d tried to jerk the glass away from his face but was much too late. A hand shot up to hold his nose again. Ichigo heard Grimmjow’s soft laughter and his eyes hesitantly raised. The dancer was holding the black jacket out toward him. Ichigo felt so sheepish at this moment. "I’m really sorry..." ALL OF THE EMBARRASSING SHIT. Ichigo was starting to think he was making a bad impression even though Grimmjow was so easy going.

 

            "Eh." Grimmjow shrugged and took the glass in exchange for the jacket, making the trade easy for the flustered young man. Ichigo was not making a bad impression on this easygoing man in fact.

 

            "Don't you care if this-"

 

            "Nah. It's black anyway, and it's your blood. Why would I? I hope that doesn’t sound as creepy as I think it did…" Grimmjow tipped the glass toward Ichigo and drank a swallow of it. “Thought about it after I said it.” The man laughed again.

 

            Ichigo narrowed his eyes. This man had taken a sip of the drink. _The drink._ As in the one with blood in it. As in the one that probably _tasted_ like blood.

 

            Grimmjow caught Ichigo staring. "What?" He chuckled. "There's worse shit they put in some drinks ya get."

 

            It was an agreeable point but it was still blood. “Do you have fangs or something?” Ichigo held the jacket under his nose and gently pinched, cutting of the small streams. Initially all he could smell was the musk of the blood but as he brought Grimm's jacket up to ebb the flow he was over taken with a signature scent through the heavy one of blood. Ichigo found Grimmjow’s scent different than most of the people he'd thought had an attractive scent about them. It was rough, like the scent of sweat after a hard day's work, but it had a sweet curve that Ichigo couldn't really think of a good description for; it was just very pleasing.

 

            “I’m not a vampire if that’s what you’re edging toward.”

 

            “You’re handsome like a vampire, you could be lying to me. Vampires lie a lot.” Ichigo was mumbling through the jacket.

 

            Grimmjow grinned baring his all-to-human teeth, “I suck dick, not blood, but thanks for the odd compliment anyway.”

 

            Ichigo had to chuckle at that.

 

            Grimmjow stepped forward and pressed the jacket down from Ichigo’s partially bloodied face. Gently his hand touched Ichigo, fingertips to a palm spread against Ichigo’s cheek. So smooth. Grimmjow found it funny how Ichigo stiffened suddenly after the touch settled and while he stared directly into the young man’s hazel eyes. "Sweet guys with nice compliments get kissed. I hope you don’t mind."

 

            Ichigo shook his head wordlessly and leaned in a little bit toward the touch. He did not mind. Not in the slightest. He was a little nervous though.

 

            Grimmjow leaned in and just barely brushed his lips over Ichigo's in a ghosting sort of gesture while still staring directly into bewildered hazel eyes. He knew it made Ichigo squirmish. He liked that real and genuine reaction.

 

            The orange haired young man blushed and his pupils dilated, he tried to speak but only noiseless air passed through his lips before he felt a tender but brief pressure up against his lips. He hadn’t kissed someone for a little while, it was a sensation that he missed.

 

            Grimmjow drew back after the quick but sweet kiss. "So… Do ya drive, kid?" He slipped the keys into Ichigo's free hand and gently closed the teenager’s fingers around them.

 

            Ichigo didn't much like that nickname ‘kid’; he wasn’t a kid anymore! "Yeah I drive." The keys to that nice...shiny...expensive... Ichigo’s eyes nervously blinked at the sportscar and then back to Grimmjow. "Oh! Oh no way! Nothing like this… I couldn’t…I mean- You aren't- No… I don't think that this is a- well. It's...It's not really. You know! It's a...bad idea?" Ichigo wasn't going anywhere stammering like that.

 

            The cerulean haired man laid another kiss just above Ichigo’s upper lip, licking the blood from it and putting a stop to Ichigo's stammering. In a gradual manner Grimmjow progressed to kissing Ichigo on the lips again. Though it was a tender gesture he did it without trying to slip his tongue into the mix.

 

            That was much desired. Ichigo hoped he'd get to feel of that tenderness again.

 

            Breaking slowly from the kiss Grimmjow grinned and stepped back to walk around the sportscar and over to the passenger's side. He opened the butterfly door up and ducked into the vehicle, settling into the passenger’s seat and pulling the door back down firmly.

 

Ichigo had just been peering in, watching the man. He hoped the odd doors were as easy to close as Grimmjow had made it seem. With some reluctance Ichigo climbed into the driver's seat and pulled the door down with careful force. It latched easy enough. The nervous young man looked with wide eyes toward Grimmjow. “Are you sure that you want to let me drive this?”

 

            “Ya seem responsible, let’s see what you’ve got.”

 

            “Are you really, _really_ sure?”

 

            “C’mon, just lemmie show ya a good time. Besides…if you’re the one driving ya won’t have to worry about being kidnapped by a stranger.” Grimmjow winked.

 

            That was a horrible thing to say! “Grimm…you’re odd.” Ichigo chuckled lowly.

 

            “The blue hair wasn’t the first clue? C’mon…night’s wastin’. Start it.”

 

            Ichigo blinked forward again and searched for the ignition switch. A big glowing button labeled ‘start’ and a key slot right next to it… Ichigo went with the traditional method; he stuck the key into the ignition, stepped on the brake, and twisted. A muffed purr rose from under the hood and the dash lights and so on in the sportscar came to life. Ichigo’s eyes got a little wider with a grin, "Woah."

 

 

            "Like that?"

 

            "Yeah, who wouldn’t? I should have asked before but…what does it take to drive this?" There must have been an assumption that he knew how to drive a manual and automatic.

 

            Grimmjow tapped the stick to shift into park, drive, and so on. "It's a semi-automatic so no tricky clutch but ya still hafta let off the gas and shift gears. Since ya don't got as much of a boost as I got it might be tough to see over the hood so just get used to it as ya please. Take your time."

 

            Ichigo looked toward the man and lifted his brows. “I thought the night was wasting away.”

 

            Grimmjow caught onto the smartass tones coming from his company and fired back, “Just like a good dicking….ease into it. I might be sharing but I don’t wanna be in a wreck. Do ya need practice shifting?”

 

            Scoffing softly Ichigo smiled, “No. I drive a manual car,” and then set about looking around the seat for something to adjust its height. He found it, a lever, on the side and brought the comfortable satin covered seat up the few inches difference in the two men's height and then adjusted the back. He heard Grimmjow laugh again. "What now?"

 

 

            “Most anyone I've let drive feels it's impolite to change the seat’s position. You’re either smarter than they are or just ruder.”

 

            “Rude my ass. I need to be able to see.” The young man adjusted the rearview and checked the side mirrors; he could see in them.

 

            Grimmjow continued to laugh, “It’s almost like your ass belongs in the driver’s seat. Do ya like calling the shots that much?”

 

            “Maybe I do…and ‘smarter’ is a little much to call something that’s common sense.”

 

            "Maybe for ya. Speaking of common sense…I don't wear seat belts so I had them taken out of this car. With this black-out tinting on the windows and all the black interior I doubt cops would be able to even tell so don't worry about it."

 

            Ichigo was a little bewildered. "Why don't you wear one?" The tinting and lack of seat belts were definitely illegal, it bothered him a little, but not wanting to drag things out too much longer Ichigo shifted into reverse and backed out of the parking spot easily. He turned the steering wheel until he could maneuver straight through the parking lot then drove smoothly until he got to the turn onto the main street. The sportscar stopped as Ichigo held firmly on the brake. "Hey…why not?"

 

Grimmjow frowned heavily. "Almost got me crushed in a wreck. They freak me out."

 

Ichigo forgot about thinking of which way they were turning.

 

"I was tangled in my seatbelt and stuck on some train tracks because of a wreck." He hadn't looked at Ichigo while he was talking. “And that's why I don't fucking like them.”

 

            Ichigo felt bad for pushing, "I'm sorry Gri- Aww shit…"

 

That remark caught Grimm's full attention; it was very easy to tell what Ichigo was cussing about. The young man’s nose was dripping blood again. Grimmjow caught sight of the jacket already in Ichigo's lap, catching the droplets.

 

            “I’m so sorry! Ugh… This is ridiculous. I don’t want to bleed on more of your stuff…”

 

            “It’s only blood and the interior of this car is black, it’s ok,” the exotic man reassured. This bloody nose was getting ridiculous though, he hoped Ichigo was ok. How had just a bump caused that? “Are ya gonna be fine driving?”

 

            "Yeah, I'll just be careful." Ichigo pinched his nose again and tilted his head forward waiting for a minute. Fortunately there was no one waiting to behind them.

 

            Grimmjow's thoughts switched to where they might be driving. “If you’re feeling decent let's take the highway. We’ll have an easy time out there.”

 

            A chuckle from Ichigo sounded about like a goose honking. Gosh! Why did he have to sound so stupid?! Another embarrassing thing. “Fine.” Ichigo checked his nose, no more blood dribble. “I think it stopped, finally.” He let go of his nose and wiped his fingers clean of blood on the black jacket before gripping the steering wheel and cranking it to the left to make his turn onto the main road. Ichigo navigated toward the highway, he knew the way. “North or south bound?”

 

            “North. Less traffic around this time of night.”

 

            “Ok. Hey Grimm…do ever…race this?” Ichigo could feel the power of the vehicle as he had to get used to the way it braked, accelerated and shifted…it was truly built for performance.

 

            “Not often lately but hell yeah I have.” Grimmjow laughed.

 

            Ichigo smiled a little, a smile that was very close to a smirk. Grimmjow was some kind of handsome badass. On these slower streets prior to the highway it was easier to glance at Grimmjow from the corner of his eye. The man had quieted down and seemed a smidge distant, off in his own little world. Car rides must be relaxing for him, or maybe he was thinking about the shit that he’d gone through earlier in the back of the club. How much did someone get paid for something like that anyway? Ichigo's attention was drawn to the green light that changed in front of him, easily the young man drove ahead and merged right onto the highway. There really was hardly anyone on this stretch and as he got to feel the effortless acceleration on the ramp Ichigo knew he was really driving something special. It didn’t take a mechanic to figure that out. On the highway in a traveling lane Ichigo let his mind relax into enjoyment of the smooth ride as he cruised at 70 mph. He actually liked this a lot. Ichigo’s thoughts turned… Was it ok to fool around with an older guy while he was nineteen? Grimmjow had to be at least twenty-three, maybe twenty-two but he certainly wasn't in his teens.

 

            Grimmjow fiddled with the car stereo, an unnoticed action at first.

 

            Suddenly spooked, Ichigo almost swerved the car when the loud pitching sound of screeching guitars and thrumming drums erupted from the surrounding speakers in the sportscar. What the fuck?! Exhaling as he realized that they were fine the young man glanced over at this companion and saw that Grimmjow was settling back into his seat with his eyes closed and his arms folded behind his head. Ichigo really wondered now: worried or relaxed? He bet that Grimmjow was hella good at hiding his stress. It could have been either. Even though Ichigo wasn’t big on music to drive to he did not mind the metal musical selection. Ichigo continued thinking as he flicked on the left turn signal and accelerated gradually into the next lane. He glanced at Grimmjow again; the man’s eyes were out the window.

 

            What Ichigo hadn't noticed in his brief glance was that Grimm wasn't just awake, and he wasn't just looking out through the tinted windows; the window was tinted just dark enough to act like two-way mirror in the dark with dim lights. The small gadgets built into the car glowed just the right amount to illuminate features in the sportscar dimly. Grimmjow was passive about the things outside; he'd actually been watching Ichigo. The exotic man’s lips curled hearing the turn signal on the dash click on again as Ichigo took the farthest left lane. He felt the speed increase again. Ichigo wasn't glancing over at him nearly as often as they started to move faster but the kid was pushing what felt like 85 mph. Grimmjow’s philosophy on this car was that at higher speeds it performed the best. He settled his head back to its former position against the headrest of the seat and closed his eyes, enjoying the blaring music competing with the smooth rumble of his car’s engine. This was sublime.

 

            Ichigo blinked looking down at the speedometer: 90, it said. Oh shit, he hadn’t even been trying to accelerate, this machine just wanted to! …and that wasn't even half of the gauge. Really it only took a very light touch to get more horsepower. Grimmjow wasn’t telling him to stop so Ichigo took it up to 95. He looked at Grimmjow quickly and was surprised, even startled a little, to see the man’s eyes open just as he glanced. “Is this even ok?”

 

            “I mean…that depends on your definition. You’ve got a natural lead foot, it’s a beautiful thing. Why don’t ya punch it? There’s no one around, we haven’t passed any cars for the last five minutes.”

 

            “There are probably cops…”

 

            “If we get stopped I’ll do them a _favor_ and they’ll probably just let us go. Just punch it. Live a little more, kid.”

 

            The reasonably nervous teenager blinked and looked at the gauge again: 105 mph and no seat belts. He was already _seriously_ speeding, Grimmjow hadn't just suggested more speed had he? Was a lead foot really a thing when a feather’s touch on this gas pedal pushed you up ten mph at a time? Ok, well maybe he did have a lead foot...but...there was a certain excitement to it…a slow boil of adrenaline under his skin. Ichigo glanced back over. Grimmjow was getting off on this wasn’t he?

 

            Yes he was! The exotic looking man lightly ground his teeth into his lower lip, biting it. He was leaning back into the passenger’s seat, eyes slightly open and watching the road over the sheen of the Lamborghini’s black hood. This was exhilarating. He wanted to know if this handsome young man had the balls to take the risk or not.

 

            Ahead of them were gentle mountains and hills partially lit by the stars. They were headed far from any city and it was all so much easier to see even in the dark because the stars out here were so exposed without a shroud of pollution that obscured them in the city.

 

            In dark versus light there were different things to behold... "If you’ve got the balls, bring me that horizon. Best get to it before it gets away." Grimmjow suggested something absurd…but dangerously inspiring.

 

            Knowing full well that he could back out of this, but wanting to know how it felt to scream down a stretch of road, Ichigo breathed once…he turned on the bright headlights and slowly exhaled as he let his foot down heavily in the highest possible gear. The sportscar instantly responded and roared once before starting its acceleration at a steady rate. The metal playing through the stereo still screamed back at them in unison with the engine’s snarling. 120, 130, 145, 150. Ichigo wasn't watching his companion but the faster they went the more he started to feel a strange euphoria.

 

            Grimmjow was feeling that euphoria too, only he expected to feel it.

 

            To Ichigo this surprising sense of euphoria and charged adrenaline was rather new. He held the steering wheel tighter for better control. As far as he could see, and Ichigo was watching intently, their lane was clear. The brights really helped. 170 mph. The young man felt his body shiver. If he hit anything, any fucking thing at all, it was almost guaranteed that they'd both die on impact or from the following wreck. Why did that risk not make him want to slow down yet? Was he really chasing the horizon for Grimmjow? Maybe he was chasing it for himself.

 

            Opposite of Ichigo, Grimmjow had closed his eyes and relaxed even more. His body tingled with pleasure. Arousal was boiling in his blood from moving this fast. It was making him hard, very hard. Every time he got a chance to drive at 150 mph, or above, it felt like his blood and his body were on _fire_ …on fire with a euphoric and dangerous arousal. It was a sensation that only a select few things could bring him. He was very content that Ichigo was doing this for him and that the young man had the sum of balls or stupidity to actually drive this fast.

 

            Ichigo felt his thrill peaking. The speedometer on the dash was getting closer to maxed. "Fucking hell. It doesn't go any faster does it?!" His foot was just about on the floor.

 

            With cracked eyes Grimmjow looked over at the gauge: 190 mph. “Sure it does.”

 

            “Fuck Grimm! I mean..! Shit! It doesn't need to go any faster! Does it?!” They were yelling over the music. Ichigo was now getting a little worried.

 

            Used to higher speeds, Grimmjow cackled. It was a maniacal sound and the man reached forward to open the glove compartment. Out of this compartment he took out a small gadget with numbers that were slowly increasing. 210 mph it said. The gauge in the dash was pegging. “It can handle more. As fast as you’ve got the balls to drive.”

 

            Ichigo swallowed hard, glancing even quicker than before and still afraid to really believe that they were moving at such a rate. There was still a pleasure about it for him but he also had a little bit of fear hanging around. “We're going hit someone else eventually if-“

 

            Grimmjow closed the compartment with a loud click and twisted the knob on the stereo controls to drown the excuse out. The music blared and the engine screamed, effectively drowning out Ichigo. “It’s up to ya!” he yelled over the music. If the kid wanted to slow down he could; Ichigo was in control of the car. Grimmjow set the device atop the dash in a bracket and dropped back into his seat, closing his eyes again and clenching his hands at his sides. He was so fucking hard...

 

            This guy had a death wish, and why the fuck was Ichigo tagging along?! Something inside of him raised the question…just how fast could they get to? Where were all the cops that were supposed to catch lunatics like them?! …and where were the other cars that they were ‘supposed to’ hit so  that they'd appear on the news as smears on the ever-stretching highway?! That was what everyone said would happen if you went this fast on the highway, so why wasn’t it happening now?! It was impossible! …and yet...not. Ichigo looked at the digital numbers on the new device. 233 mph. They should be _dead_ by now, shouldn’t they?! That's what any normal human being should have acknowledged. Ichigo didn’t relent on the acceleration. He just couldn’t make himself. He just didn’t want to!

 

            Grimmjow was clenching his hands, trying his hardest to not pull out his cock and start jerking himself off. That would distract the driver for sure. If he distracted Ichigo, and jerking off would definitely draw attention, all it'd take was a slight tug of the wheel in the wrong direction and they'd be dead. Grimmjow’s mind was slowly going under, the pressure and the rising heat in his body and between his legs… He reveled in it. "Fu~uck..." the man lulled, though the music made it inaudible to anyone else.

 

            Ichigo had checked the device twice in the last fifteen seconds. Both times it read: 264 mph. That was it. That was as fast as this car would go apparently. This was beyond reckless. "Two hundred and sixty-four miles an hour...we should be flying for this!" he yelled, staring out at the out blurred highway with his foot firmly on the floor.  Ichigo’s focus tunneled on ensuring that he could control the car and that they didn’t hit anything. All there was to see was just before him…the long dark road…the shine of the starlight on the hood…the bounce of the headlights... The road felt so smooth…the best maintained highway around… The fastest car in the city? Maybe. Ichigo didn't need to check anymore because he knew how fast they were going. The distractions of earth: gravity and air were just falling away and he could not feel things the same as before… Sound was muffled to his ears, the car’s features disappeared, the metal music fell away too, and he was just speeding through a rushing fiery tunnel chasing the dark horizon. Everything he’d ever known about driving was burned away by the savage friction and it felt like he alone was screaming in flight down the highway at mock 5. It was reckless…and it was profound.

 

 

            Fleeting…from earthly troubles.


	7. Coming Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: n/a

**Chapter Seven**

_“Coming Down”_

 

 

            Grimmjow wasn't sure at what point he'd fallen asleep but when he opened his eyes again the car wasn't moving anymore. He’d been too relaxed and just conked out. Oops! He blinked languidly and stretched his back out along with his arms. His hands hit the roof; they were definitely still in the car. The exotic man noted Ichigo's form slanted forward and bearing weight on the steering wheel. Grimmjow blinked a few more times to clear up his vision then looked at Ichigo again, he was wondering if the young man was ok.

 

            Ichigo was watching the rather empty road through the windshield. Once and a while there was a car, not very often. It all seemed so slow to him, watching them putting by at 60 or 70 mph. Ichigo was entranced by the dark shades and occasional cars and not keeping an eye on Grimmjow so he was surprised to feel a hand on his shoulder in the next minute. He jumped, sucking in a quick breath. "Grimm?! Whew…"

 

            The man chuckled, "I dunno I could be death when ya say it like that. The Grim Reaper!"

 

            With a strong snort Ichigo cut to another subject quickly. "Enough of that! I get it though."

 

            "Get what?"

 

            "Why it's so great to go that fast."

 

            Grimmjow scoffed, he'd like to think it wasn’t so easy to peg. "Everyone feels it differently, kid."

 

            Ichigo was a little discouraged by that response and sat staring out at the hood. "I snapped to and realized you were out so I just slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road. I was surprised that there wasn't smoke coming out from under the hood."

 

            "Bet'cha that bottle of stuff I had in the trunk's gone and popped."

 

            “I thought the engine was in the trunk of these sports cars…”

 

            Grimmjow shook his head “No, it’s a fairly heavily modified machine. It had to be moved up front.”

 

            Intending to see for himself Ichigo opened the driver’s butterfly door, pushing it up slowly until he felt it catch, figuring it wouldn't come down on his head. He took the keys from the ignition, the car was already off, and got out.

 

            Grimm saw him disappear around to the back and it seemed like Ichigo had figured out the trunk release on the back. The back panel lifted up; it blocked the view he had through the rearview mirror. From where he still sat in the passenger’s seat Grimmjow heard a loud 'damn!' and the sound of the trunk closing abruptly. He waited for Ichigo to come back and report his findings.

 

            True to predictable form, Ichigo circled around the car and rested a forearm against the driver's side door frame, peering in. "So yeah… You were very right. That probably ruined the upholstery in your trunk, but I saw two corks. What was in those? It smelled like wine."

 

            Grimmjow cracked a smile and clicked open his door, raising it up until it caught. "White and red."

 

            "Wine."

 

            "Yeah, and speakin' of which ya did a lot of that-"

 

            "Hey! I’ve never driven that fast in my entire life so don't even go there Grimm. I've got balls and you fucking know it."

 

            Grimmjow stifled a chuckle and nodded slowly, "Yeah, ya do." He looked up at Ichigo with the some searching look in his bright blue eyes. "I didn’t mean to be cutting earlier. What's it like for ya, driving that fast?"

 

            Ichigo rested heavily on the frame, thinking back. "I was flying. It all burned away, the metal, the extra lights, the sound. I couldn't feel the air. I don't know what I really felt but maybe I was weight-less." He stopped himself from babbling on. "What about you?"

 

            Grimmjow's grin widened into a kind of smirk and he raised his arms, hoisting himself out of the car. "It feels kinda like my body's on fire and my blood's as hot as something molten like lava. Or somethin' crazy's bubbling under my skin. Gets me restless and horny. Essentially it feels so good I get off on it."

 

            Ichigo’s thoughts rang; he’d so called it – Grimmjow getting off on the thrill.

 

            Meanwhile Grimmjow recalled his own words. He wasn't the best at describing things. "Something like all that." He disappeared from sight for a short time to retrieve gloves from under the passenger's seat. After finding them he ambled around to the front of the car, lifting the hood.

 

            Ichigo didn't doubt that everything under there was raging hot, by the way Grimm quickly lifted the metal up with his gloves on and let go just as fast. The hood was blocking his view of the man. Even though they barely knew each other Ichigo didn't like Grimmjow getting out of his sight, he felt lonely. The young man straitened his back and stalked around to the front of the car after the exotic man. "Woah..." he said with a lingering in his voice, staring at all the shined chrome and steel and well-maintained components in the engine compartment.

 

            Grimmjow’s ego jumped a little. "I work on most of this myself. Bought a racing engine and had to convert a bunch of stuff to bring the motor up here, custom. No one knows this car like I do. There’s a reason why it wasn't overheating, yet. Most of this car's innards aren't stock..."

 

            Ichigo was puzzled, he didn't know much about cars so this was mostly a foreign language to him.

 

            Grimmjow took the silence for what it was, confusion, so he tried to make it easier on his singular audience member. "Means what they built it with originally ain't there anymore. Some parts I replaced, but it really doesn't hold up well going over 195 for a long time. Can't change that."

 

            "How long will it hold up for, and why not longer?"

 

            Grimmjow checked for Ichigo's hands to be clear and gave a few installed temperature gauges a quick check over. None of the fluids were boiling over. There wasn't much he could have done without a lot of tools but as long as it wasn't literally on fire and none of the gauges' needles were in the red it was fine. He closed the hood and checked to see if the gloves had made any prints on the paint before answering. "I've never pushed it past ten minutes at 195, and that's because the car's too heavy for its engine to labor like a true racing car would."

 

            “What was wrong with its stock engine that you’d buy another one?”

 

            “It was just too heavy to have a bigger motor on the front of this car.”

 

            Ichigo never would have guessed that Grimmjow was, to put it politely, so knowledgeable about such things. The cerulean haired man didn't immediately appear as smart as he really was, nor did he really look the part for such mechanical knowledge. There were those 'demeaning' ideas again. Ichigo blinked then started rubbing his eyes.

 

            "Hm?" Grimmjow was sliding off his gloves, looking curiously over at the teen.

 

            "Sorry." Ichigo yawned. "I'm just tired, I need some coffee or something..."

 

            "Ya kids and your fuckin' caffeine fixes. It’s not good for ya." Grimmjow walked around Ichigo to the driver's side. The door raised up and he stuffed the gloves under that seat. "We'll go look for some then, eh?"

 

            "Please." Taking the hint by Grimm’s positioning, Ichigo scrambled around to claim the passenger's seat. He was more than alright allowing someone else to drive now, he’d had his fun.

 

~

 

            They'd been driving for ten minutes and so far there was nowhere proper to pull off for a drink, not even a bar. They were way out of what was called Florentine City, where Grimmjow worked; Ichigo lived in a town beside that big city, Karakura. They were both well out of their ways enjoying their time. A small rural town Grimm didn't recognize was the next thing to show itself. He spotted an exit sign and squinted to read it. 'Welcome to Faltsville'. He glanced over at Ichigo, who had fallen asleep, curled up in the passenger’s seat with his arms tucked into his body. It was cute...and distracting. So distracting that he looked up just in time to pass the exit, then cussed under his breath, "Damnit." By the look of all the lights that was the main way into town. Oh well, he would get off on the next exit and backtrack.

 

            It took about five minutes driving to get to another diverging exit from the highway. The vehicle slowed down after cutting off the highway and rolled to a halt. The exotic man looked to either side of him. He wasn't checking for cars, there weren't any driving by, just looking out at star-lit fields of crops and the vast expanses of land dotted with trees and farm houses and stables. Clicking controls beside him he rolled down his window, nostalgia rushed in like the chilly air through the opening. He could've lost himself to looking out at all this open land. The vast majority of the night he would gladly twiddle away just to travel around each field and check out what there was to see. Then again, Grimm remembered he had Ichigo with him, the young man’s earlier request was pressing.

 

            Grimmjow checked the digital clock on the console in the car; it was 1:26 AM, making it pretty unrealistic to expect to find someone to give them directions and he still didn't know which road would take him back to that town. Exploration would have to wait. He thought he could see a small road leading back alongside the highway. A backroad? Maybe. If that road was continuous it might be a strait shot to Falts-whatever that name was.

 

            The sportscar veered to the right and crept down a slope to veer right again. Riding mostly smoothly on this dirt road, Grimm groaned, worried for his paint. Buffing out chips and scrapes from rocks would be a pain but it wasn’t like he’d never done it before.


	8. Breakfast Before Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: n/a

**Chapter Eight**

_“Breakfast Before Dinner”_

 

 

            Ichigo stirred, how long had he been out and what time was it? He was squinting, bright lights were shining in through the tinting and reflecting off of the hood. They reminded him of the overhead light that his dad used in the clinic when they needed the equivalent of a flood light to examine a patient's injuries. Light in the shape of great white orbs, slowly growing dimmer as his eyes adjusted. Once Ichigo could see without squinting the setting he was in became clear, it was familiar. They'd pulled into a gas station. He could see the fixture beside the car with its pumps hanging and the convenient store a lane across. The orange haired young man leaned back in the passenger seat to stretch then turned his head. Where the heck was Grimm? Ichigo looked around and finally noticed someone outside of a small window toward the backseat.

 

            Sure enough Grimmjow was around and he was standing next the car on Ichigo's side waiting for the gas dispenser to click. Ichigo relaxed his neck and happily watched, lulled by the cool air blowing in a cracked window of the sportscar. He could relax if he knew where Grimmjow was. It was funny to be worried about another person like this. Initially, when he'd arrived at the club with Nnoitora and the gaggle of tag-alongs, Ichigo wasn't hoping for such a lasting attraction. He was considering buying a lap dance or something the like, but Grimm did him one better, without even asking to be paid. This was wild, but it made sense, to Ichigo, to suppose that he might be enjoying more than just Grimmjow's body in this.

 

            Grimm had replaced the pump handle in its slot and swiped a card. After that the man jammed his hands into his pockets and bounded across the cracked pavement to the store instead of returning to the car.

 

Ichigo frowned as the exotic man disappeared from his view; it felt awkward not having someone to watch.

 

            Inside the convenient store Grimmjow hung a right and wandered along the aisles. He stopped at the tall refrigerators in the back. There were so many different labels on drinks, ones in every hue and color and plenty of brands to choose from; it was making him a little anxious. Maybe instead of something cold it'd be best to just get coffee too. Ichigo had only asked for coffee anyway, but he personally didn't feel a craving for something hot or caffeinated though. Damn why was making choices over the smallest shit so fucking hard sometimes? It was just a goddamn drink. It wasn’t like they had to get the same thing either… Grimmjow grabbed one of what he was currently staring at in the wall of fridges. Whatever it was it said iced and had no caffeine in it. Couldn't be that bad. He sauntered around one row of shelves, picked up a bag of red grapes from a shelf he passed, and stepped over up the counter. "Oi."

 

            The guy running the register wasn't even watching the inside of the store, he was gazing out the window.

 

            "Hey, pal..."

 

            "Oh! Help you sir?"

 

            Grimmjow chuckled, though a little more irritated than amused. "I need a cup for coffee."

 

            "Right!" The excitable clerk stooped to fish under the front counter for a cup. "Sorry we don't leave those out, 'ne-more. Damn people would come through here and take them all without paying for drinks." Still crouched for the moment, he held a cup up for Grimmjow.

 

            The exotic man snatched the cup by the rim and left the other items on the counter as he shuffled away to fill it. He had his back to the middle-aged clerk, messing with the coffee machine across from the counter.

 

            "Saw you get out of that... _really_ nice ride over there at pump eight; right across the way over there." The man gestured out of the window but Grimmjow's back was still to him. "That all yours?"

 

            "Yeah it is..." Grimmjow set the cup down and took a plastic lid from a basket. He wasn't paying the cashier much mind, more concerned about not spilling hot coffee on himself. He was always wary of people being too flattering outside of work. Grimmjow felt the middle-aged man’s eyes watching as he walked back over to the counter.

 

The cashier started up again as he rang up the few things Grimm had brought to the counter. "For a young fella like yerself to have the money for that kind of a ride... What're you doing around these boonies?"

 

            Grimmjow noted the man's chuckling but hardly acknowledged it while he rested his own forearms on the chipped counter and vaguely stared down at it. The cerulean haired fellow didn't look up. Suppose that his situation wasn't funny...or was it? Him...his car...in a place like this. "Ya know, I used to live out in a town like this."

 

            "In the boonies?! Heh, that's surprising. No offense there." The cashier paused. "That's fifteen twenty. Card or cash?"

 

            Geeze that was a lot for just three things. Maybe he should have looked more carefully at the drink he'd picked for himself, which better taste like liquid gold. Grimmjow slipped his wallet out of a side pocket in his dark jeans. "Cash, here." He slipped out a twenty and handed it to the other man. He caught a glimpse of the name tag on his breast pocket: 'Caleb'. That seemed such a plain name but it was nice to know someone's name… To not have to look at face after face and amuse yourself by deciding which names suited strangers.

 

            'Caleb' counted out change as Grimmjow continued staring off into space. "Guess you didn't come from one of those rich families that buy them children everything they cry for. Out in the boonies you got to work to get somewhere." He handed Grimmjow the dollars and cents change with a receipt.

 

            "That's right." The change went back in his wallet and the wallet back into his pocket as the clerk bagged the other two items and left the coffee for Grimmjow to grab.

 

            "Say, how you go about making all that money anyway?"

 

            Grimmjow hesitated at the question then picked up the coffee in one hand and hooked the bag on a wrist. "Striping," he said with a crooked smirk, walking toward the door.

 

            The clerk burst into a fit of laughter. " Ehahaha! Oh damn... That's a good one..!" 'Caleb' rubbed the corner of one of his eyes, to remove a tear he'd cried from what seemed like a witty joke from this man with blue hair. "Well you have yerself a good morning, sir," the same clerk bade with a casual salute.

 

            Grimmjow nodded over his own shoulder without really looking back. He strode out of the store and bounded back over to his car. It stung to hear people take a crude reality and twist it into a joke that they could believe was nothing but funny. It hadn’t been a joke. It was Grimmjow's personal life, his career...his entire fucking livelihood now. The exotic man hadn't locked the sportscar’s doors and as he stopped by the driver’s side he simply pulled it up and slid into the driver's seat, coffee still in one hand.

 

            Ichigo was still awake, now staring out of the passenger's window. He muttered in a barely understandable slur, "Grimm, where are we?" He sounded a little tired.

 

            "Gas station," the man retorted, pulling down his door with a pleasing 'thunk' as it latched. He hadn’t meant to be sharp with his mention, he was just a little salty at the moment.

 

            "I know THAT." Ichigo slouched forward and rested his forearms on the dash in some sort of a stretch. "What town?"

 

            "Falts...something."

 

            "What?!" Ichigo sat up with a start.

 

            Grimmjow sat still as the young man stared dead at him, eyes wide. Ichigo looked somewhat crazed with his bright hair fluffed on one side and this expression. Grimmjow was too surprised by the look to laugh but it was a funny sight. "Well...that sounds like it's supposed to be my line, kid. Now...what'd ya get all jumpy all the sudden for?"

 

            Ichigo's eyes relaxed and he leaned on his shoulder against the seat. "I think this place was on the news."

 

            "So? On the news for what?" Grimmjow rummaged through the plastic bag with his one free hand, opening the bag of grapes and popping one into his mouth.

 

            "You really don't watch the news do you?"

 

            "Not so much, no. Forecast's the extent of my interest." Grimmjow relocated the bag to the backseat. "Why's it such a big deal? This is just an older town."

 

            "Oh...never mind..." an irritated Ichigo crossed his arms, leaning his ear up against the head-rest.

 

            Grimmjow shook his head, holding the coffee cup out to him. "Careful, it's pretty hot." He caught Ichigo crack a smile as the younger fellow took the cup and sipped at the warm brew. 'Kid sure does appreciate the little things...' he thought watching the young man light up at the simple gift. Grimmjow reached for the keys, still in the ignition and the Lamborghini started up easily. Setting the bag aside he maneuvered the vehicle out of the gas station and turned back onto the road he'd taken to get here. Grimmjow felt absorbed in the almost pitch-black night surrounding the car until Ichigo spoke.

 

            "Guess I can't say you bought me dinner first."

 

            Grimmjow smiled at that and kept quiet, watching the beams from the car's headlights bounce as they continued down the uneven road.


	9. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: n/a

**Chapter Nine**

_“Darkness”_

 

 

            Ichigo was nearly finished with his coffee and they were _still_ driving. "Uuh... Do you know where you're going?"

 

            "Hell if I really know anymore, I can't fuckin' see, but this is a _straight_ road, kid. The same one we took before and the highway is over there to the left."

 

            Ichigo peered out of Grimmjow's side window; there were blurred lights whizzing by in the distance. "So this way should get us back over there, right?"

 

            Grimmjow could easily sense how Ichigo was getting anxious by the words that his orange haired passenger had been using and an insistent tone that Grimm hated so much because it made him anxious too. "Yeah."

 

            "Good."

 

            There were a few minutes of awkward silence before Grimmjow spotted something. A barn and stable, first appearing as black boxes on the right side of the road but now a little clearer under faint moonlight. That was first building they'd even seen on this road. There was a lantern lit and hanging just above a pen in the open stables with no sign of horses or cattle or any other animals over there. It hadn’t been lit when they’d passed it before, had it?

 

            Ichigo's head jerked toward Grimmjow as the man moved over to the side of the road and pulled up close to the front gate, stopping the car. Both buildings were a short way out, down a gravel driveway.

 

            "Grimm, what're you doing?" No answer... The driver's side door clicked and lifted. "Grimm!" Ichigo pestered. The man ignored his company and got out to inspect the gate.

 

            It was just a small picket gate, and a pad-lock and chain that he spotted on the gravel had been left off of it. Grimmjow approached the gate's center and lifted a switch under one beam of wood and pushed the two sections of pickets out to the sides of the driveway. Then he jogged back to his car, hopping back into the driver's seat.

 

            With only the dimmed headlights of the vehicle casting beams ahead of them, the dreary gloom of early morning was enough to scare Ichigo when he looked at the shadowy property. "This is someone else's land Grimm, we're going to get the cops called on us for trespassing..."

 

            "Ha, and the nearest police station is how many miles away?" The driver's door closed and the car slowly crept forward down the gravel driveway. "Besides I don't think there's anyone out here to tattle on us, do ya?"

 

            The car pulled in beside the stables and Ichigo stared warily at the lit lantern; suppose someone had left that there and they were wandering around out here checking on their property. An angry Mr. McGregor checking on his garden, or something along those lines of a crotchety old farmer not wanting them poking around in his stuff. "At least back the car in somewhere so-"

 

            The daring man cut in, "So we can make a get-away, huh?" Grimmjow grinned mischievously.

 

Ichigo scowled, he was being mocked. "Yeah that, not a bad idea is it?" he tried asserting.

 

            Grimmjow maneuvered the Lamborghini into an unmarked parking place with its tail lights facing the barn and twisted the key to turn off the car. He had taken Ichigo’s advice for request, he wasn’t too proud to be fair. "Ya worry too much. You're not gonna get thrown in jail for lookin' around an old, neglected barn. Yelled at probably, but not jailtime." Silly city kids.

 

            Ichigo grumbled and lifted the passenger's door up, hopping out of the car and kicking some rocks to the side. He stood there for a few huffy minutes then looked back in the sportscar when Grimmjow still hadn't joined him outside. "What's taking you? Let's just go in, look, and get going."

 

            Grimmjow's door finally went up and he stood up out of the car with two thick blankets draped over one arm and the plastic shopping bag hung on his wrist again. "Relax a little, eh?" Grimmjow shuffled across the gravel after shutting his door, moving toward the barn's entrance. His little orange duckling was not far behind after also closing the passenger's door, Ichigo was always sticking so close to him. It was cute, in a codependent sort of way. Grimmjow pointed the key at his car and pressed a button on the key ring. Dim lights flashed once and it made a 'blip' sound. "Locked it just for ya, Mister Jitters." With shuffling feet Grimmjow dodged a swung hand that Ichigo threw at him before the man tugged on the barn door. It moved aside easily, creaking. 'Huh, wonder why it wasn't locked...'

 

            Ichigo didn't respond further, he only peered into the darkness of the open barn. "Damn that's creepy."

 

            Grimmjow had to agree but he wouldn't say anything. "I've got a small flashlight ya can use in the bag." He ignored the plastic twisting on his wrist as Ichigo eagerly reached into the bag and fished around. In turn, Grimmjow took out a lighter from his jeans’ back pocket. "They still hang oil lanterns up in these kinds of places."

 

            Ichigo clicked the flashlight on and let its beam glide over the barn's interior. This barn wasn't very big, there were two closed rooms he could make out in the back corners, a small loft above them and stacks of crates and other supplies. Pails, hay bales, and sacks with faded labels were piled up pretty neatly for such an old barn. He could see the light shine on the metal of a row of farming tools hanging on the wall to their left. "Gri-" The young man looked to the side and stiffened realizing Grimmjow wasn't next to him anymore.

 

            Out of the darkness Grimmjow's voice called, "Hey! I found a lamp..." Ichigo nearly dropped his flashlight out of surprise. There was a spark and the entire right-hand side corner of the barn by the doors was illuminated.

 

            Ichigo froze upon sight of fangs and fur looming behind his companion. He was scared stiff and Grimmjow completely oblivious. Though there was something odd...the fur wasn't moving, it had no glowing eyes, this thing was sprawled flat against the wall. A pelt...thank god! Ichigo sighed, shedding his immediate alarm. His pulse gradually went down again.

 

            Grimmjow glanced back, he saw the pelt as well but unlike Ichigo knew right away what it was. "Woah...this shit's the real deal..." He hung that lamp up and reached out to pet its soft fur. Out of curiosity he poked at the fangs next. "The guy livin' here must have been a skinner, this thing's old but it's not synthetic."

 

            "For the love of god!" Ichigo yelped.

 

            Grimmjow snorted and looked at Ichigo, "What..?"

 

            Trembling, Ichigo pointed with his flashlight to something else on that same wall just a short distance away from the pelt Grimmjow was petting.

 

            Grimmjow raised the lantern and revealed another stretched pelt. "Kid, they're all dead. Ya scared of a little furry pelt?" This second one was arguably spookier if not more worrisome than the first, but equally as inanimate.

 

            Ichigo crossed his arms and stared at the decorative dead object warily. These pelts were really big. He wasn't a fan of dead things, especially ones with fangs.

 

            Grimmjow sighed, forcing a slight smile; it seemed like he wasn't going to get any help lighting the rest of the barn. He moved from one corner to the next, lighting one lamp for each. He grinned, proudly walking back toward Ichigo. "Pretty nice huh? Less creepy when it's all lit up isn't it?" The lamps had been set up on barrels, one by each corner; it must really be how whomever owned the barn saw during the night time.

 

            Ichigo rolled his eyes and gestured to the loft with the flashlight's beam. The entire loft was only about the length and width of two cars if they were parked side by side; maybe about twelve feet wide and eighteen feet long..? "What about up there?"

 

            "Oh... Uh, I'll get it." Grimmjow snatched up a stray lantern perched on a pail and moved to the wooden ladder; it was nailed into two beams that allowed for climbing up into the open loft. It was an easy climb despite still carrying the plastic bag and blankets with the addition of the lantern. Grimmjow hopped up from the ladder, planting his feet on wooden beams, creaking under his weight, and lit the lamp. He hoisted it up by its handle and looked around above. Some adventurer he was. The ceiling was still a good eight feet higher than his head. Lofty cobwebs and specs of dust floated about the rafters.

 

            Ichigo tugged the heavy barn door closed with a grunt and hurried over to the ladder, jumping onto it and climbing up without a moment's hesitation. Again, there was that eerie loneliness without Grimmjow close to him and he wanted to stay close to the man, especially in this creepy barn. Grimmjow made Ichigo feel safe, even though Grimmjow wasn't actually listening to those warnings about trespassing. Suppose risks like this were just part of living an eventful life. Ichigo wouldn’t know so much…his life had been relatively tame so far.


	10. The Grass is Greener

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: explicit sex  
> Secondary disclaimers:  
> I do not hold any ownership of Trojan Brand Condoms or their products (Magnum condoms) nor do I profit from their mention. Magnum condoms © Trojan Condoms

**Chapter Ten**

_“The Grass is Greener”_

 

 

            With only one blanket spread out on the wood in the back corner of the loft Ichigo had found his place leaning against a wall. It was a little chilly up here...his t-shirt hardly helped to prevent goose-bumps from forming along his arms. The curious teenager busied himself with looking through the flimsy plastic bag that Grimmjow had brought along, trying to forget Grimmjow's denial to his plea to pack up and leave. That huge bag of grapes was making it hard to see what else Grimmjow had stuffed in there. They’d left their drinks in the car. Curiously the young man’s hazel eyes flicked up to see if he was being observed. He wasn't, his companion was on the opposite corner of the blanket they'd laid down crouched beside an oil fueled lantern and fiddling with it. Grimmjow looked silly like that, watching the flame dancing. Ichigo went back to his searching task and took the bag of grapes out, setting it down by his hip. What else was in there? Two shiny and flat packets of something. Ichigo reached in and took both out, reading the print on their fronts, "'Magnum'," he muttered softly. "Oh..." Condoms. Lovely...! Ichigo blushed and turned his eyes upward again, "Why did you put-" Ichigo's sentence dropped off at the sight of the tall man now standing and unbuttoning his neatly pressed shirt.

 

            Grimmjow gave Ichigo a sly grin before pulling off his long-sleeved shirt and dropping it on the blanket, a safe distance from the lantern.

 

            The body that had caught Ichigo's attention to begin with was reappearing bit by bit as Grimmjow took his clothes off. The belt fell next, with a 'clunk'; then socks and shoes were kicked off and finally the pair of well fitted jeans... Ichigo sat still, stuck with awe at the sight of this man's incredible musculature. Grimmjow was ripped...and not in just a buff sense of the meaning. He had _long_ toned muscles under that evenly tan skin; he also had curves, hard lines forming each muscle and defining them, broad and strong shoulders...every inch of him boasted the 'elegance' of strength. Such a perfect build. Such a desirable body.

 

            Grimmjow's grin widened as he hooked two thumbs under the waistband of his silk boxers, teasing as though he might take them down if his audience begged loud enough.

 

            Ichigo attempted to hide his dissipating irritation because Grimmjow was so stubborn about staying here and stood up, holding one wrapped condom between his index and middle finger, then pointed it at Grimmjow. "Is this for me...or you?"

 

            "Well that depends, do ya wanna ride my cock, or..." the cerulean haired man took a few careful steps toward Ichigo and circled around behind him, "...should I just bend over and beg for yours?"

 

            The still moderately agitated young man turned his back on Grimmjow, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

            Hard biceps rubbed Ichigo’s shoulders as arms encircled him, a firm bulge pressed against his butt. Grimmjow’s voice was lower now, “I’m asking if you want to have sex.”

 

            Still very stubborn on his own about this idea being a dangerous one, Ichigo crossed his arms and scowled defensively, feeling Grimmjow's fingertips slip under his pants' waistline and playing at his skin. “Why are all of your ideas dangerous?” He was stubborn but he didn’t hate this; the young man leaned back a little bit against the strong form behind him.

 

            "Not all of my ideas are dangerous ya know... If ya want...we might try both positions...I didn't put two in there for just one of us... Whatever pleases ya more." The exotic and horny man ground his constrained erection against Ichigo as one of his hands felt its way further down... Surprisingly Ichigo allowed his pants to be unbuttoned and the zipper pulled down without any fussing. He hadn’t been pushed off yet so Grimmjow fervently sucked the young man’s neck and groped at him before he guided Ichigo to a stack of wooden crates that had been piled up by the edge of the loft. From there he ditched his own underwear and tugged the Ichigo’s pants and boxers the rest of the way down without a shred of the young man’s help.

 

            Ichigo chuckled softly, not objecting to the treatment; he'd finally cracked. He passed one of the condoms back to Grimmjow, holding onto the other one.

 

            One of Grimmjow’s brows quirked up. "What's so funny?" Honestly though...if Ichigo was objecting he wouldn't have continued.

 

            Ichigo rested his forearms on the crate in front of himself and didn't bother to look back again as he heard the package tearing, just moved his ass like a tease, "Jus-!" Two slick fingers were fitted into and then moved inside of him. 'Just hurry up,' was what Ichigo would have said, but he stopped short of a sentence and leaned heavily on the crates, hoping that they wouldn't slide forward; if they did he would surely fall out of the loft. Grimmjow must've used his spit or something, because they went in smoothly. "Oooo... Are there really condoms big enough for your dick anyway...?"

 

            It was difficult not to outright laugh at the amount of times Grimmjow knew he'd heard variations of that compliment. "I'd say whether it breaks or not is your answer."

 

            That was not reassuring! It was definitely a joke though…a crude joke. There was only a minute's worth of fingering to prep a tense Ichigo for what was to come. Both fingers were slowly drawn out, replaced by Grimmjow's cock's tip dipping into Ichigo's puckered hole. The young man could feel all the nerves at the base of his spine jab at him as hands gripped either sides of his hips.

 

            Grimmjow carefully fitted himself in as Ichigo writhed over the crates with fists balled and back arched, moaning and grimacing about the man's size. Grimm shuddered, this sure was tight going in. 'Must not bottom very often,' he figured in thought. "Spread your legs out a bit, so it goes in easy..."

 

            Distracted by how it felt Ichigo responded sluggishly, reluctant to move. He couldn't even tell whether Grimmjow had the condom on or not, he was far too distracted by the stretching. He hoped that Grimm had put it on because the last thing he wanted was to have a butt full of semen. Maybe someone like Grimm loved that kind of thing but to Ichigo it was an uncomfortable mess. In a way he did trust that Grimmjow had the condom on because the man had been mostly thoughtful thus far, even if he was a thrill seeker. "Nnn...so big..."

 

            Grimmjow hilted as deeply as he could with a husky gasp, checking to see if the body below him was still alive and kicking. Yep. Ichigo seemed noticeably pained but pleased especially since the young man was leaning into the hips behind him. Grimmjow grinned when Ichigo let out a breathy moan while he held relatively still inside of the other body to let Ichigo adjust for a moment. Sadly, Grimmjow hardly waited for more than a few seconds for a squirmy Ichigo to adjust. He pulled his full length back and gradually sunk in again, then repeated this only a few more times before he started to pound into Ichigo.

 

            Ichigo really hadn't expected their pace to pick up that quickly and clung to one of the crates, grabbing at its edge desperately. He was lucky that the pile of crates didn't so much as sneeze at the force exerted against them. "Aaaah..! Grimm! Fuck..!" Focus lost, on occasion his ears picked up Grimmjow's heavy breathing, groans and pleased grunts from behind him, but that was only when he himself wasn't making noise. Ichigo couldn't help the moans and gasps that escaped him. They were pleasurably forced out. This _hurt_ but remembering who was behind him made it easier to ignore some of the sting. Grimmjow certainly wasn't trying to thrash him on purpose, and it actually did feel good in a carnal sort of way.

 

            The young man took to forcing his butt backwards as Grimmjow thrust his hips forward, which showed want. Grimm loved that. He also loved those lewd sounds that Ichigo made, crying out in ecstasy as he found a pleasurable angle inside of Ichigo and continued to hit that as they fucked for thirty long minutes. All sweat and horny moving bodies. Eventually Ichigo seemed too drained of energy to even stand without wobbling. This was some ball-knocking pleasure. Grimmjow held tighter to the second body’s hips, pulling them back and forcing himself in deep, his cock's head squeezed pleasantly by Ichigo's insides as he blew his load. It felt good, all of his cum pooling around the tip of his cock while it was buried in the warmth of a second body. Giving himself a chance to enjoy the sensation Grimmjow waited and then slipped out with a relieved groan and leaned over Ichigo, kissing his way up the young man’s still clothed and arching spine. "Liked that?"

 

            Ichigo rested his head against his own forearm, trying to calm his breathing and keep his knocking knees from collapsing. That was one rough ride..! "Ye-Yeah...that was...g-great...wow... I can't feel my legs..." He was surprised that he hadn’t cum yet, he’d actually tried to hold back. It hadn’t been easy.

 

            Grimmjow helped Ichigo stand upright, pulling the young man up with one arm around Ichigo's chest and letting Ichigo lean back against him. "Ya gonna fall over?" he teased, smirking, very proud of leaving his mark.

 

            Ichigo let the aura of Grimm's cocky attitude sit in his mind for a few moments. He thought out a suitable treatment to remedy said cockiness, which he wouldn't tolerate. Ichigo reached back and roughly gripped Grimmjow's semi-erect member. The taller man tensed instantly. Ichigo was smugly peering over his shoulder, not making eye contact, just peeking at Grimmjow's ridiculous size. Even going limp this man's dick was huge... He slid the condom off and dropped it on the wooden planks of the loft's floor. He sure was glad to find out that Grimmjow had actually worn the condom. "Grimmjow you have smart mouth on you...I swear I'm going to make a fucking cream pie out of you..."

 

            Grimmjow blinked at first, a little confused or bewildered it would seem. He had provoked and then misjudged the remaining amount of strength left in Ichigo. Apparently this kid thought that he could handle another round. He could…

 

            The young man twisted around and grabbed Grimmjow mercilessly by the hips, holding firmly and pushing his thumbs into soft spots just above the man's pelvic bone.

 

            Grimmjow flinched, doubling half-way over out of surprise alone. The man’s hands instinctively went to Ichigo's to pry the fingers off, though he found himself being ushered backward and roughly bumped up against the barn's rough wooden wall before he could do anything about those hands. Grimmjow reached back to steady himself as Ichigo lifted him up by his torso without warning, "Woah..!"

 

            "L-Legs around me, _now_ , or I am going to drop you..." Ichigo warned.

 

            Obediently the man laid his back against the wall and did as he was told, hooking his feet together behind Ichigo. "Ya gonna drop me anyway if we go at it like this-"

 

            "Hush." With one arm around Grimmjow and his hand resting on the man's lower back Ichigo picked up his own hardened length below Grimmjow’s body and spread Grimm's ass cheeks. Ichigo rubbed its head against the hole until his precum, which there was plenty of, was spread thickly across it. He had totally forgotten about using a condom on himself. Shockingly it was still a challenge to put his cock inside of Grimmjow; Ichigo would have figured that kinky brunette would've spoiled it... What a pissy thought that was, and happily proven wrong. Though it was still a matter worthy of his attention, Ichigo would perhaps ask about it later; now was not the time. Without the condom on, rendering no complaint from Grimmjow, Ichigo penetrated and slid himself halfway in.

 

            Grimmjow had his hands on his support's shoulders, this young man was _actually_ supporting most of his weight. "Ichi...ngh!" He felt the long, stiff member brush something sensitive inside of him. "Nnn..!" The unseen bruising from his earlier session was roused, but Ichigo was being far gentler with his body than that asshole Aizen ever was. "You're gonna drop me..!"

 

            Ichigo ignored Grimmjow's blatant pleas for his partner's sake because distractions made his strength wane, it was just one more thing to think about. His hand moved from guiding his cock into the hot passage to grab hold of the back of Grimmjow's head by his hair. Ichigo pulled that head forward and crushed their lips together, roughly cutting off Grimmjow's speech.

 

            "Seriously kid...don't push yoursel-" he'd managed before being silenced. The kiss was warmly accepted and Grimmjow forgot his plight, moaning against the other pair of heated lips and sliding tongue.

 

            Unlike Grimmjow, who sometimes forgot, Ichigo knew the value of taking one's time. He'd started out and stayed slow until the ring of muscles loosened up. Now it was time to quicken the pace. He really enjoyed kissing Grimmjow but couldn't manage a fierce pace and keep contact with Grimmjow's lips at the same time from this position.

 

            The exotic man felt Ichigo grab hold of both his legs, forcing them to unhook at the ankles. Grimmjow also felt his body lift more so his calves were brought up to rest on strong shoulders. Now Ichigo was just flaunting his strength. 'Kid's got stamina for fuckin' days...' Grimmjow hooked his ankles behind Ichigo's head and then Ichigo leaned over him. The hazel eyes that stared into his blue ones seared with feeling, not the malicious lust which he was accustomed to, but a desirable passion.

 

            While he orchestrated the pleasure that they both felt, Ichigo took care not to bump Grimmjow's head against the wall, that wouldn't have gone over well. He left one of his hands free to roam Grimmjow's body and the other helped hold him up.

 

            One of Grimmjow’s hands was against the rough wall and the other held onto Ichigo's shoulder. Quickly after Ichigo had repositioned him the cock in him began pounding.

 

            With want of more pleasure Ichigo was rocking his hips inward and just before he hit his base he would thrust up, using momentum and forcing himself deeper. Good god Grimmjow felt so good, he was warm and smooth on the inside. Not too constricting or loose either. His every inch went in without a fuss and the withdrawal was torture - just enough to make Ichigo cringe and thrust back into the warm depths faster. This was the most intense and thrilling sex Ichigo had ever had. No wonder Grimmjow had a job at that club. This man was perfectly built for pleasure.

 

            Most of his coherent thoughts had already scattered when Ichigo picked up the pace, but as Ichigo moved against his prostate there was now nothing Grimmjow could clearly think about. The young man was relentless, hitting it again and again. "Aaahhh...Aaahh...!" the exotic man cried out. Parts of him trembled, and so many parts of him were numb with pleasure. Even with his shoulder blades rubbing on the coarse wooden wall, pain was least of all what he felt.

 

            Smooth movements, well placed thrusts. Ichigo's hands began roaming; he touched Grimmjow everywhere possible just to see what made the man tick. He was having fun flicking Grimmjow's nipples and playing with his balls; both made Grimm cringe pleasurably. The place Ichigo found which granted the best reaction though had to be the tip of Grimmjow's cock. All he had to do was move a fingertip over the slit and press down on it a little and Grimmjow's body convulsed and shuddered.

 

            It gave him chills..! Grimmjow had some perhaps unusual sexual turn-ons. Ichigo's seeming willingness to exploit those and the shallow discovery of only one was more than he’d figured he’d ever get tonight. Being searched for cues... He sure felt spoiled.

 

            Ichigo heaved a breath, leaning in closer to Grimmjow with his fingers working at the slit. "I'd love to work you with my tongue but...I think you’re having more fun being fucked and I can only do one at a time."

 

            Grimmjow had his eyes closed listening while his body practically bounced against the other. Just hearing Ichigo talk like that, with hands on him and a thick, slippery cock vigorously fucking his ass was so damn erotic. The otherwise composed man blushed bright color, though dimmed by shadow, and bit his lip as he tried to restrain from cumming. Make it last just a bit longer..! He couldn't buy much time, this just felt so good. Gushing spurts of semen shot from his swollen cock, splashing both his and Ichigo's bodies. "Nnuuuhh..." He could see white sparks for an instant and then they faded as his member oozed the last streams of cum over itself and Ichigo's fingers.

 

            Ichigo had slowed momentarily at Grimmjow's second orgasm to give him a chance to catch his breath. Now was just the right time for him to release, not at his sexual limit like Grimmjow, but his legs' stamina was wearing dangerously thin. He thrust in hard and unloaded his seed deep in the constricting passage, shuddering at the intense, warm sensation.

 

            "Aaah!" Grimmjow cried out again. The throbbing of Ichigo’s fully sheathed cock he could feel against the rings of his asshole and it was just…sublime. The slippery cum began to drip out around Ichigo's cock. This all created a hot feeling which lingered with him, and now Grimmjow felt so tired - lulled into a relaxed state, and more satisfied than he'd been in months. The exotic man hung heavily on Ichigo, unable to help hold himself up any longer.

 

            Luckily there was strength left in Ichigo after climaxing to withdraw and carry Grimmjow over to the blanket that they'd set out. Ichigo laid his exhausted partner down, taking great care to be gentle with the euphoric fellow, swiping the other blanket to fold and set behind Grimmjow's head. Ichigo felt pretty damn good too…his body buzzed with after-sex pleasure and soreness.

 

            Breathless, Grimmjow didn't even try to make more than subtle movements after Ichigo set him down. "Damn..." he huffed. Laying there he sure looked the part, sweat and semen mixed, both dripping off of his body. He was a delicious mess, or at least Ichigo thought so.

 

            "Why drive all the way out here just for this?" Ichigo was boggling with the idea of such a long trip. Couldn't they have stayed at the club and taken up a room for this? It would have made more sense to have sex for the first time on a comfortable bed. The dedicated young man lay on his belly between Grimm's legs, lifting the other's semi-flaccid member to lick it clean.

 

            Grimmjow closed his eyes and his back arched, the chills came again from Ichigo's touch. "Less pressure..." He caught his breath. "...when you're away...from everyone...mmmm..." After the moan there was a long moment to catch his breath again before he felt Ichigo start to suck his cock's head. More chills came. He could feel fluid being sucked out by soft lips and a warm mouth. If he wouldn't have already cum twice he would have gotten another erection in an instant from this treatment. Grimmjow glanced at the barn door, feeling a mildly chilly breeze brush against his soaked skin. It was closed, perhaps the air was blowing in through the worn wooden walls. It didn't really matter where it was coming from; the chills that the air brought him he didn't like, suddenly finding that he missed a warm body holding onto him. The lanterns in the corners of the barn began to burn dimmer and dimmer with each passing second. He felt cold again.

 

            Just as cold as he'd been wandering into the barn alone.

 

            Just as cold as when the clerk had laughed at his non-joke at the gas station.

 

            Even as cold as he'd felt laying on Aizen's floor, chained down and drugged up in the backroom of the club. His was a vicious cycle of life, sex, and other thrills.

 

            Now Grimmjow felt a terrible freezing whenever Ichigo wasn't pressed flush against him or looking at him with those handsome hazel eyes. In a way Grimm needed to know that Ichigo wasn't just a body…to remember this young man had a unique identity, and equally as important…to see that Ichigo knew that he had an identity as well. The sex here, tonight, was so much better after Ichigo that finished with him than he’d had for quite a while, and that was mostly because Grimmjow felt human afterward. He was already a bit attached to this charming and awkward young man.

 

            A slick tongue dipped into Grimmjow's gaping hole and the cerulean haired man closed his eyes and let his head lean back as his mouth hung slightly agape, silently gasping. Ichigo's hands gently held the other's thighs apart, happy to service him, taste him, please him.

 

            It was better this way. Without worrying about strange eyes studying them, taking pleasure in watching their hot bodies collide…they were both able to relax. Grimmjow's heart warmed over, able to see visions of Ichigo's smiling face behind closed eyes. Not often would he have smiled recalling someone’s face as they pleasured him. Idly Grimm whispered, "Thanks..." in a breathless voice, and all went from dim to dark. The lanterns scattered around had all burnt down or blown out. The exotic blue haired man looked half lidded in his euphoric daze at the open barn door and a second gust of wind interrupted and chilled him to the bone, again.


	11. Horses or Cattle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: a bit lewd and scary!

**Chapter Eleven**

_“Horses or Cattle”_

 

 

            It didn't take more than a second and the hair rose on the back of Grimmjow's neck. He hushed his breath. All there was for a moment were the soft sucking sounds Ichigo made and then, footsteps.

 

            Ichigo didn't feel the other man’s reactions and thought that was strange. He withdrew his tongue and picked up his head to see Grimmjow leaning up-right, completely still. There was a moment completely void of noise and then he heard the same shuffling of feet. Ichigo glanced at the open barn door and saw no one. He looked for shadows being cast through the cracks of the walls. His fearful eyes traveled without his head moving and saw Grimmjow's head turn to him slowly. It was eerie, the gentle moonlight that now lit their completely naked bodies. He mouthed words, "What was that?"

 

            Grimmjow gestured, a nudge of his chin at the door.

 

            Low voices could be heard and a light, most likely the lantern they'd seen above the stalls of the horse's stable, moved away from the barn outside.

 

            Grimmjow shuffled back from Ichigo and snatched up the flashlight from beside the bag of grapes. He aimed its dull beam at the loft's floorboards and only the floor, afraid to cast light signals through the walls. The exotic man perched on the edge of the loft, while Ichigo watched, and scanned the inside of the barn for anything that might have moved inside unseen. Just as he suspected, lack of noise now - there was nothing there. Only gentle smoke rising from the lanterns in the corners. He looked over at where the light was in the distance outside the barn. The flashlight clicked back off. Grimmjow crawled on his hands and feet, grabbing the shopping bag and casting it to the side of the loft with the grapes. They would both be communicating in barely audible whispers. "Ichi get your clothes, _NOW_." The last word was still quiet but very stern.

 

            The orange haired young man obeyed without thought, crawling quickly and carefully. He grabbed his pants and shirt to pull on, biting his tongue at the chance to say 'I told you so.' Talking like that wasn't going to help matters.

 

            By the time Grimmjow had his pants and shoes on as well as leaving the two bags hidden behind a crate in the loft Ichigo was already completely dressed. The man shoved the flashlight in his pocket and crawled over to the wall. Not wasting a moment Grimmjow crouched against it, feeling for loose beams.

 

            Ichigo gathered the rest of their clothing, picking up Grimmjow's used condom as well. Unsure what to do with it he dropped it into a stack of hay over the side of the loft. He moved fast back to Grimmjow's side. "Where are the bags?"

 

            "Behind those boxes." Grimmjow put his fingers through a crack in the boards and glanced behind them to see if the light was still far away. It was, for now. "It'll make too much fuckin' noise to carry them...leave 'em there...." He jerked on the board to loosen the nail holding it in place.

 

            Ichigo didn't like this a single bit. Grimmjow didn't seem like a typically jumpy person, so when he was spooked there was something definitely wrong. The teenager glanced at the faint glow seen through the barn wall, it was now moving toward the stables opposite the Lamborghini. In other words, it was getting closer. "Grimm...It's moving..."

 

            The exotic man looked back and saw what Ichigo meant. Even closer now, it was right beside the outside of the barn, next to the wall. He let go of the partially dislodged beam and tackled his frightened companion flat against the loft. "Don't move...at all..." His left hand lay flat on Ichigo's back as the light came around the corner of the barn door.

 

            It was a lantern, not bright enough to illuminate Grimmjow or Ichigo from that distance or angle. Three figures loomed in the doorway. One with the lantern, one holding something over a shoulder, and the third without anything noticeable on hand.

 

            Ichigo had his forehead against the wooden floor, Grimmjow on the other hand had his head propped against his left shoulder and could very slimly see over the loft to the looming bodies.

 

            The one carrying a mass over a shoulder stepped into the light of the lantern. It was a heavy-set man; he tossed what looked like a petite girl off of his shoulder and onto the ground floor of the barn. She didn't move from her landing spot. It was a human body but she landed like a rag-doll. He abruptly turned to the others, brushing his hands off.

 

            Grimmjow narrowed his eyes. He didn't get a clear look at the man's face, damn!

 

            One of the figures spoke. "That's probably her car...she must have come looking for it in the middle of the night. We had better do something with it or this'll stir something up."

 

            The heavy man nodded and a deep voice spoke next. "Let's get a crowbar from the van and pry those doors open." It was truly impossible to tell who was talking but it didn't matter to Grimmjow. Soon they moved away from the door. Three shady figures walking away from the barn again.

 

            Ichigo felt Grimmjow shift. Oh no...

 

            The cerulean haired man made it to the loft's ladder and dropped down from it with a soft thud. He tipped his head and saw the figures at the end of the driveway through the open barn door. They wouldn't have heard him. His attention was redirected to the girl deposited on the floor.

 

            Ichigo peered over the edge at Grimmjow being stupid and brave. He watched the man stoop and roll the unmoving girl over on her back.

 

            Grimmjow recoiled, yanking his hands off and grabbing behind him until he caught hold of the ladder, startled by the scene. The dull moon's light through the door cast rays on a pale body in a white flowered dress, thin and delicate as a twig with a concaved and bloody face. Could you even still call that a face? Fuck! Grimmjow heard the loud closing of a metal door down the drive and saw the lantern bobbing back toward the barn yet again. This was the only chance he and Ichigo would get; who knew how long these... _people_ would stick around to tend to this corpse. He jumped up on the ladder and quick stepped to the spot he was at before, yanking on the beam until the nail creaked and dropped out and the wooden beam tipped to the side. They'd need one more beam loose to fit through.

 

            Ichigo was trying to help Grimmjow with the boards, stirred from his stupor. He whispered again, "Why didn't you roll that body back the way it was?!"

 

            "No time..."

 

            "Couldn't we take the car?" Ichigo half asked and half insisted with his words and tone.

 

            Grimmjow snapped as quietly as he could at Ichigo, "No time...! They're gettin' too close too fast...! Just pull." He was panicked, splinters gathered in his fingers' flesh from tugging so hard on the wood. "Don't think...once this is free...just get through and jump..." The next nail creaked and popped loose, springing out of its lodging in the wood. The long beam dropped to the side at an angle opposite the other one. Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo by the waist and got the young man’s head and torso through the opening in the back of the barn.

 

            "Grimm..." Ichigo hesitated but the other man pushed him through. He landed in a heap, just shy of a curling chicken and barbed wire fence. Ichigo was in mild pain from the landing but was competent enough to roll to the side afterward so Grimmjow could follow.

 

            Grimmjow cussed. He'd hoped Ichigo would have made it over that fence. Now they'd have to go around it. He grabbed the pile of clothes and looked down, happy to see Ichigo out of the way and he leapt; landing hard on his feet and unable to keep balance. Grimmjow had let go of the clothes and fell back against the fence with a rattling sound. It was beyond pain, slowly barbs dug into the backs of his limbs and shirtless torso. He swallowed a yelp and dropped forward from the fence into a kneeling position with mild injuries on his back. At least they'd gotten out of the barn but damn those guys were likely to notice a bread crumb trail right quick.

 

            Ichigo winced looking nervously at the barn. He felt nauseous and reluctant to move for the moment.

 

            The light was back in the barn and the voices stirred. The two escapees could hear shuffling and angry tones. A loud clatter and the sound of glass shattering made them both jump.

 

            "The lamps are all burnt up and warm!" A voice from in the barn growled.

 

            Grimmjow snatched his shirt from the clothes pile, putting his arms through the sleeves and helping Ichigo to his feet. The blood from scratches on his back bled through the nice fabric. He gripped Ichigo's wrist firmly and began following the fence away from the barn to hopefully find a break in it.

 

            The young man had their boxers, the only clothes they really hadn't had time to put back on by this point, and tucked them under his arm. Spotting an opening in the fence he tugged on his arm and got Grimmjow to stop dragging him. "Grimm, look."

 

            They were about twenty feet away from the barn and what they could see beyond this fence were two fields beside each other. The opening in the fence would put them in the midst of an apple orchard. Then there were tall stalks of corn in the second to their far right.

 

            "We'll have to run for it...between the trees and into the corn." They both glanced at the barn, catching sight of brighter lights, flash lights or flood lights being twisted around, searching. Slowly they sank down and crouched by the fence in the weeds. "Shit...My pap used to tell me about what happens to people in these situations..."

 

            Ichigo looked from the traveling lights to the opening in the fence and back to Grimmjow. "What kind of man was your dad?"

 

            "Temperamental. He told me: 'There's wild horses that run trying to stay free, and there's petrified cattle who stick around to be slaughtered.'" He paused, reaching for Ichigo's hand. Ichigo was trembling just as badly as he was. "So we're gonna run...and be smart about it so we both get into that corn patch on the other side. Daybreak'll come soon and we'll be able to see our way back into town. Until then...we stay low profile and out of sight." ‘And for the love of God, please don't let them have guns...’ Grimmjow silently prayed.

 

            Ichigo leaned forward and kissed Grimmjow on the forehead, squeezing his grip on the other's hand. "Ok." He was afraid but he trusted his companion to guide him through this.


	12. A Cry in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: violence, violence toward animals in self defense (if you’re sensitive to this don’t read on, you’ve been warned)

**Chapter Twelve**

_“A Cry in the Night”_

 

 

            Grimmjow helped Ichigo under the bent section of barbed and chicken-wire fence and crawled under after him. They both remained crouched by it, looking over to see where the lights were. Grimmjow tugged Ichigo's shirt to get the young man’s attention. "We're goin' along this side to our left...it'll get us strait to the back of the orchard and then we're gonna duck behind those trees in the back rows until we get to the corn. Those stalks are tall enough that when we get inside the patch and they won't see us, but ya can't move a lot once ya get in there else they'll see the fuckin' stalks movin' around."

 

            Ichigo slumped against Grimmjow, hands pressing against the man's chest in earnest. "Grimm...I don't...damnit, I don't want to do this. There's got-"

 

            Grimmjow wrapped his arms around Ichigo and pulled his companion into a firm hug. "Ain't another way outta this kid. We're lucky we even got out of that damn barn before they saw us." He buried his nose in Ichigo's hair, that smell of sweat and sex and some...strawberry...the gentle sent of strawberries was mixed in there somewhere. It was soothing yet combined with those other scents it was enough to keep Grimmjow going just thinking about it. Ichigo was released from the hug and held out to look at Grimmjow as the exotic looking man spoke. "Neither one of us is gonna get hurt, ya got that Ichi?"

 

            Ichigo felt his nerves bolster. Something inside him felt stronger hearing those words and seeing Grimmjow's stern face. "Okay-"

 

            They both heard a few shouts and then the three forms came around the farthest corner behind the barn, their flashlights pointed up at the barn's side, spotting the two moved planks of wood.

 

            "Oh shit...we talked for too long... _now_! Get moving now!" Grimmjow let go of Ichigo and they walked briskly, hunched over into the orchard's farthest row of trees. Ichigo stopped after being ushered forward and Grimmjow pushed the young man’s back to the tree. "Only one of us is going to be able to hide behind each of these trees at a time. So work your way back, if ya see a light pass near you just-"

 

            Ichigo placed a hand on Grimmjow's shoulder. "I know. Don’t rush."

 

            "Good..." Grimmjow looked over at the barn, he could tell that the figures were all probably men as they shone the lights at one another and started shouting. He couldn't hear what they were saying but he didn't care, it wouldn't matter. Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo's wrist and they both broke into a sprint alongside the farthest row of trees.

 

            Ichigo glanced behind them, one man with a flood light was scanning along the fence. "Grimm..."

 

            The exotic man glanced back. "Until they shine it toward the orchard just keep-Ugh!" Grimmjow landed hard on the ground, having kicked a mound of hardened dirt his footing failed and stepping on an apple with the other foot there was no way to get balance back. He crushed a few more of the apples with his fall, releasing Ichigo's wrist. "Ow...fuck..."

 

            Ichigo had stopped instantly and helped Grimmjow back up. "Anything broken?"

 

            "Nah..." The taller man grimaced, rubbing one side of his ribs that had landed against the ground.

 

            Ichigo took the lead this time, pulling Grimmjow behind him as he ran. "Where are they now?"

 

            Grimmjow just tagged along, sprinting near full tilt. "Umm..." He looked back to spot the men by the fence at the hole where the two of them had crawled through. The light began to move toward the orchard. "Tree! Now!"

 

            Ichigo felt Grimmjow's wrist snap out of his grasp and they both scrambled behind separate apple trees. The light passed over their row and continued on.

 

            Grimmjow had the time now to really see how big the orchard was. About an acre, maybe two hundred feet in either direction and they'd already run at least a hundred feet, half the distance. They just had to get to that back row and then they wouldn't have to worry so much about the lights. The beam that had passed over them was a good four rows over now. Ichigo poked his head around to look at Grimmjow, who had started moving forward again, he snagged Ichigo's wrist and they sprinted toward the back of the orchard yet again. They had to run between the first and second rows, hopefully their movement wouldn't be spotted before arriving at the back of the orchard. They were being as careful as they could in this cover of night.

 

            Ichigo tugged on his own arm, "Grimm! Please...! I can't run any more..." The body pulling the young man along stopped. Grimmjow had heard him. Ichigo hunched over, leaning against his companion and gasping for his breath. "My legs are going to give out..." He’d lost a fair bit of his stamina fucking this man.

 

            Grimmjow wasn't breathing as hard as Ichigo but he was happy they'd stopped, a bit sore too. He inspected his winded companion, noting their boxers now tucked in Ichigo's back pocket like rags. Now that was kind of amusing. He looked up again and Grimmjow kept an eye on the three men at the fence in the distance; they were shining their lights elsewhere for now. Grimmjow snapped up a pair of their underwear and wiped his face clean of sweat and helped Ichigo wipe his own off.

 

            Ichigo stuffed the pair of boxers back into his pants pocket and sighed. They _had_ to keep going.

 

"I know you’re tired but we've gotta get movin' again," Grimmjow said placing a firm hand on Ichigo's back and pushing the orange haired young man forward.

 

            They jogged behind the trees and ducked two more passes of the light before they were at the back of the orchard. Now they would run toward the corn field. Then Grimmjow heard something he didn't like. The loud snapping sound of bolt or wire cutters echoing through the field. Those fuckers were cutting through the fence. "Ichi we've gotta move faster."

 

            The winded young man seemed really exhausted, shaking his head to indicate 'no'. He was out of breath and clearly in no condition to move any faster than a jog.

 

            There weren't exceptions in dire situations like this; no excuse could be made to lessen the danger they were in. There was no sympathy for the weary and the exotic man recognized this. "Ichigo..." Grimmjow heard a final snap echo and the loud rattling of the wire and fussing of the men. "MOVE IT!" the man commanded, not shouting but snapping directly at Ichigo.

 

            Ichigo felt his wrist gripped hard and Grimmjow really began to drag him behind along for the next hundred feet. At the edge of the orchard they were forced to stop, there was a long gap, a stretch of plain dirt to get to the corn field. The two could hear the men in the distance still yelling about something.

 

            "Man they're loud..." Ichigo was leaning up against the corner tree and taking these few sweet moments to get back some much needed energy and air. "Hey...how far is it across?"

 

            "Far enough they'll see us if we go at the wrong time."

 

            "And how far is that?"

 

            Grimmjow gave the younger an agitated look, though Ichigo would barely have been able to see it in the darkness. The man looked over the gap to try and answer the question, it was far, about the length of three average sized cars. So it was perhaps forty feet, maybe a little less. A little less couldn't hurt.

 

            Ichigo had just about caught his breath when he heard two loud shouts from different men. They sounded closer, they were most likely in the apple trees.

 

            One bellowed, "Hey!"

 

The other yelled in a commanding and snappish tone, "Put that away!"

 

            Ichigo was confused, he looked back at Grimmjow. "I guess it's good that they bitch so we know where they are..." Really what mattered now was getting into the corn and if they could move while the men were distracted that would be optimal. "So?"

 

            Grimmjow sighed, staring at the corn field. "That's about forty fee-"

 

            Three rapid shots crackled behind them. One zinged far off from them and two clipped trees near Ichigo and Grimmjow. Ichigo had heard a bullet clip the wood of one, and then there was a loud bellow.

 

            "AAHHH!" Grimmjow collapsed.

 

            Ichigo stiffened. This had just gotten much worse. The young man dropped to his knees beside a writhing Grimmjow. There were more shouts from the men and Ichigo looked around to catch a flash light beam glide over the trees, miss them by one row, and then bounce back toward the barn. He was petrified. He couldn't fight if they got close and what kind of person fights unarmed against someone with a gun?

 

            Grimmjow clutched at his left shoulder, able to feel the hot bullet rubbing against something in his lower deltoid. He didn’t continue to scream. There was definitely blood, he could feel it running between his fingers as he tried to apply pressure.

 

            Once he broke from his stun Ichigo tended to the pained man, taking both pairs of boxers from his pocket. He folded one and slipped it under Grimmjow's hand to soak up blood and pressed down. “Hold against it.” Shaking, Ichigo moved his hands and tore at the other pair of boxers until the thin fabric ripped. He tied the first in place with this ribbon he'd made out of the second. When he pressed again on the make-shift gauze he heard Grimmjow whimper, what a terrible sound. They had to get across to that corn field, the faster the better.

 

            An arm slipped under Grimmjow's unharmed right shoulder and the heavy man was hoisted to his feet.

 

            Ichigo began to walk and half drag Grimmjow with him to make their way across the plain stretch. He huffed, having to pull along another body was troublesome but at least the bullet hadn't hit Grimmjow in the leg or gut and the wound wasn’t gushing like it would if it had torn through a main artery or vein. They were almost to the corn by now. Ichigo remembered his father telling him that if a bullet hit you in the gut you'd bleed out quickly, and Ichigo knew that if it was the leg it would be very hard to walk. If the wound gushed excessively well…you had minutes to do something about the bloodloss or the person would die. He felt lucky that the injury didn’t seem critical. Their situation was quite critical though, and they couldn’t lay around licking wounds. Ichigo heard stranger loud noises and all the lights behind them turned away and trekked back toward the fence. He let go of Grimmjow who stood on his own panting and huffing and hissing.

 

            Standing on his own, Grimmjow wouldn’t make Ichigo carry him the whole way. "Damnit...sorry..."

 

            Ichigo didn't look back at Grimmjow, just stood for a moment watching what the lights were doing - gathering in a group. "It wasn't your fault."

 

            "No, I mean...I said neither of us would get hurt...and here I am with ya havin' to haul me around. Fuck…"

 

            "It's not your fault Grimm!" Ichigo snapped looking back now.

 

            They stared at each other for a few long seconds before the loud noises rose again. Those weren't shouts...it was barking.

 

            Grimmjow cussed, "Guns and now dogs..." and faced the other direction, shuffling into the corn and walking as fast as he could.

 

            Ichigo swallowed a hard lump in his throat as he shivered and stalked after Grimmjow.

 

            Moving through corn fast was troublesome, there were so many of the tall plants to dodge and that barking was getting closer. Grimmjow had begun to shove the corn plants aside.

 

            "They're going to see us! Grimm!"

 

            Grimmjow didn't stop breaking the plants in his way. "They already know we're fuckin' here! The dogs are gonna smell us out. Those fuckin' guys aren't gonna do shit. Let the animals kill or maim us." Grunting he kicked down another plant in the way. The edge of the corn field was in sight and there was a tall wooden picket fence up ahead.

 

            The two of them broke through the edge of the corn, cracking plants and stared up at the fence.

 

            "Ya hafta be fuckin' kiddin'... That's gotta be as tall as those damn stalks..." Grimmjow wouldn't be able to just climb up and over with ease. "Ya hafta go first Ichi..." He looked back, Ichigo wasn't paying attention, staring into the corn. "Ichi!" the man snapped.

 

            Ichigo's head twisted toward Grimmjow quickly, they both heard the rustling of the corn and saw the flashing of reflective eyes and heard the aggravating barking of the dogs fighting their way through the stalks.

 

            Without another moment wasted Grimmjow bent one knee. "Stand on my thigh, get yourself over that fence, hurry up!"

 

            Following the wise order, Ichigo moved, stepping up on the boost Grimmjow gave and grabbing the top of the fence. He pulled himself up and swung a leg over, straddling the fence. "Now I'll pull you up!"

 

            "Get your other leg over and use the fence as leverage to pull me up- Woah!"

 

            Ichigo watched in horror as one of the barking dogs leapt out from the field and lunged at Grimmjow. The exotic man luckily dodged as the dog had caught the edge of one stalk with its foot and stumbled. Ichigo swung his other leg over and stood on a beam nailed halfway up the fence. He reached out for Grimmjow's hand with both of his. “Your hand! Grimm! Your hand!”

 

            Grimmjow glanced at Ichigo but had to mind the dog as it quickly picked itself back up snarling. They looked like attack dogs, something like the ones the police used. He had to deal with this one before he tried to climb up or it might tear his leg or foot off. The scruffy looking animal bared its teeth and barked angrily before it pawed the earth and charged again. Grimmjow jumped to the side and dodged again. With his back to the corn he dodged just in time to be caught by another dog leaping up behind him. This dog bit into the back of his thigh. Grimmjow cried out. Suddenly pain turned to rage in his mind. The first dog had skidded after the miss and now leapt again. Grimmjow was ready for it, completely ignoring the second dog gnawing on his thigh he raised the leg that was still free and kicked the charging dog on the side of its head and smashed it into the ground with the same movement. Grimmjow reached back, leaving the first dog stunned and jabbed the second in both eyes. The second dog yelped and released its grip. Grimmjow brought a well-meaning fist down on the dog's head to daze it. He had so much adrenaline going that for now his pain was banished. The injured man didn't take the time to check and see if the blow had done much, the dog was off of him; Grimmjow immediately limped toward the fence, stepping over the first dog who was still on the ground whining. "Stupid mutts...how fucking stupid to make dogs this aggressive…" Grimmjow reached up and clasped Ichigo's out stretched hands.

 

            Ichigo leaned back, raising Grimmjow off the ground and tugging him up as the man tried to scramble up his side of the fence.

 

            Grimmjow somewhat planked on the fence then toppled over on Ichigo's side. He landed with an audible thump. Grimmjow didn't even care how he'd landed, it sure was painful as his adrenaline died down, but at least he was safe. This was another field of some sort which they were in. It was separated for a good distance in either direction by the tall, obscuring picket fence.

 

            Ichigo hopped off of the fence, the barking behind him was now scrambling and scraping. A minute more on the other side of the barrier and the rest of the dogs would have caught up to them. The fearful young man stepped away from the fence and carefully picked up on Grimmjow under his arm-pits so as not to upset the gunshot wound. He drug his half-dead companion back a few rows of what looked like lettuce or cabbage and let go once they were a good many feet from the fence. Very worried Ichigo kneeled down at Grimmjow's side, he cupped the man’s jaw line. Dirt and sweat were now the texture of Grimmjow's warm skin.

 

            Heaving in every breath he took right now Grimmjow just laid there. It was a substantial amount of effort to keep himself in a sitting position. Grimmjow was exhausted but he could faintly hear Ichigo's voice.

 

            "Hey... Please don't fall asleep, keep your eyes open. We have to get farther away. They'll come to see if those dogs found anything eventually and while it's dark we can move without being seen." Ichigo leaned in, nuzzling his face against Grimmjow's. "Stay with me, please stay awake."

 

            With a bit of a shaky gesture Grimmjow lifted one arm and brought a hand up to Ichigo's cheek. He could feel small dripping tears rubbing against his skin. His other hand went back to push himself up; that hurt his shoulder so much for just a second.

 

            Ichigo was still clinging to Grimmjow, one face resting against the other. He tried not to cry but it was a futile effort; he was tired and scared.

 

            "I'm just glad it wasn't ya that got hurt..."

 

            Ichigo lifted his head to look at Grimmjow.

 

            "This was my dumb idea after all..."

 

            The young man sniffled and jerked back a sob. "I had a good time... There was nothing dumb about it at all." Ichigo cracked a smile.

 

            Grimmjow could see the tear streams glint faintly in the moonlight as he sat still, unsure of how to respond. What Ichigo said make some odd sense, even after he’d been shot and mauled. Hands pulled Ichigo's head forward and dry lips kissed the young man’s forehead. He hated knowing someone was crying because of him.

 

            Reignited barking roused the two men from their next to blissful moment. There was still clawing at the fence; even though there was probably no way those dogs could get through such thick wood they didn’t want to wait around to see. The posts seemed to be driven in deep enough at least. It hadn't even swayed when both of them were hanging on it. "Ya are right though. We better get moving." Grimmjow inspected the reflective eyes peering through the tiny gaps in the pickets of the fence at them. A sharp chill charged up his spine. No matter how glad Ichigo seemed...this whole fiasco was truly and entirely his own fault. Grimmjow wouldn’t deny it.


	13. Lights of Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: violence

**Chapter Thirteen**

_“Lights of Dawn”_

 

 

            Out of the cabbage patch and onto a road. Shuffling over gravel, Grimmjow was not having an easy time walking with his injuries. "Ouch!" He blinked away a few involuntary tears as the flesh around the gunshot wound began to sear and his bitten leg screamed with a feeling akin to burning.

 

            Not stopping but reaching to steady his companion, Ichigo gently addressed the man’s discomfort. "Hey..."

 

            Grimmjow blew out a hard breath to exhale the strain it was actually putting on him to move but didn't speak and stared down at the gravel road they walked along. Thankfully the man was remaining calm.

 

            Dawn was still a few hours off but that wasn't the timer that they were operating on any longer. Grimmjow's wounds had become the main priority. Walking was only worsening the bleeding and the makeshift gauze had soaked up all the blood it could and the wound was still bleeding a bit. The bite on the exotic man’s thigh was likely to fester if they didn't clean it; and with an injury impairing the Grimm’s walking they had to move significantly slower. While walking, Ichigo had his hand pressed firmly to Grimmjow's gun-shot wound to try and keep it from bleeding too much. A little bleeding was ok because some foreign bodies would leave Grimm’s body with the blood, the man just shouldn’t be allowed to lose a lot. Ichigo had been giving nervous glances constantly but it seemed that the exotic man was too distracted by the task of moving to notice. Also, Ichigo felt the need to ask every few minutes if Grimmjow was alright. He didn’t do that though because some strong urge told him that Grimmjow didn't want to be constantly bothered while he was in agony. Though bearing the best intentions, Ichigo was pretty far off in his reasoning why the man with him was being so quiet.

 

            Coping well enough with the physical pain, even though he couldn't push his body to move any faster, it was lead-weighted guilt that held Grimm down; the ten or twenty minutes that they'd been fleeing for hadn't been able to shake it. Only one thing was keeping him afloat: at least this young man hadn't been the one who'd been seriously injured. Grimmjow wanted to say he was sorry, but if he was reading into earlier reactions right, Ichigo would continue insisting that there wasn't anything to be sorry for. Besides the probable rejection of his apology, 'sorry' wasn’t an easy word to say on its own.

 

            Lights were glittering in the distance ahead, the two of them were nearing another part of Faltsville. Ichigo guessed it would be about five more minutes of walking but who would they be able to find awake at this ridiculous hour? "Grimmjow, look ahead."

 

            The man raised his head, spotting the lights. "Thank God..."

 

            "Yeah. Hey...um...do you feel like the bleeding’s stopped?"

 

            "Heh...well...I'm a bit numb so...I dunno. Don't mess with those bandages."

 

            Ichigo tried appearing relieved. "Oh! I wasn't- I mean...I don't think they'll soak much more of it up so-"

 

            "They don't have to if I'm not gushin' blood...but hey...wait a second." Grimmjow tried to stop walking, but Ichigo kept pulling him forward.

 

            "We need to keep going." Ichigo nervously tugged on Grimmjow's arm.

 

            "Ow!" Grimmjow winced and continued resisting the tugging. "There ain't a damn soul on our tail right now, I asked ya to wait." He dug his heels into the gravel and yanked out of Ichigo's grasp. "Just for a second, kid."

 

            Sighing Ichigo stopped as Grimmjow faced him. Ichigo tipped his head, "What?" he snapped.

 

            "Take a breath," the placid words suggested.

 

            Listening to the cerulean haired man Grimmjow might sound as though he'd gone mad. Why on earth would he stop them just for this? Was Grimm too tired to keep walking...maybe...and didn't want admit to his exhaustion? Probably, but it didn't hurt to just humor him, Ichigo figured there was no sense in arguing anyway. He allowed them to stop walking and took in a deep breath, a long one through his nose only, then came to him a sudden realization. Ichigo’s hazel eyes widened. In the cool night air drifted the sweet scent of berries from a field they were standing beside.

 

            "Strawberries... Ya smell just like 'em." Grimmjow's right hand raised to put more pressure on his injured shoulder while a shy smile formed.

 

            The younger man’s eyes settled on his companion for the evening and all that was became Grimmjow's bright blue eyes watching with a soft gaze in moonlight. Such a mesmerizing gaze; how could Grimm manage that at a time like this? This man was so calm and captivating just on a whim, despite his injuries. For several long moments Ichigo was frozen. He didn't know how, but their desperate escape faded in his mind, and he felt peace for those moments. Then a soft touch connected the two of them, and Ichigo twined the lengths of his fingers with the hand hanging at Grimmjow's side.

 

            The exotic man’s gentle smile widened, dawning his teeth between thin lips. He would be alright applying pressure to his own wound in Ichigo’s stead. Holding hands...his guilt wasn't so burdensome if they were this way. They resumed walking and Grimmjow had a few words that had been begging to be spoken, "I've seen ya cryin', smilin', laughin'. Ya ran all the way back to that club just to find me and ya came all this way with me even when it scared ya." A soft chuckle escaped him. "There's a lotta sides to ya aren't there?"

 

            Ichigo couldn't recall anyone outside of his family ever remarking about him like that.

 

            "You're actually pretty bold and sharp, kid." And now came words from Grimmjow that weren’t premeditative. "So, instead of sayin' 'sorry', I’ll bet ya wouldn't let me get away with sayin' that anyway, I just wanna say, thanks." Grimmjow paused his speech to swallow through a few painful surges, then continued, "Thanks for sharin’ the good and the bad tonight with me."

 

            Ichigo waited until the man looked back at their stepping feet before shaking small tears from his eyes. He consciously wasn't sure why hearing that made him tear up exactly but it just did. It was a lot of strain to deal with this tonight, but that was so unexpectedly inspiring perhaps. The ominous tears of emotion.

 

            Grimmjow's continuous smile took the next step and curled to a devious grin. "Hey Ichi..."

 

            "Huh?"

 

            "Ya know...there's something else that's gone numb too."

 

            Alarmed and successfully distracted from a bittersweet moment Ichigo rushed glances over Grimm. “What?!”

 

            Amused by the young man’s frantic reaction Grimmjow kneed Ichigo on the butt with his good leg. "It's my ass ya twit."

 

            "Ooof!" Rubbing the spot where he’d been kneed, Ichigo stopped searching and he dumbfoundedly stared before the intentions of that joke hit him.

 

            Watching Ichigo's stalled expression in the dim moonlight, the young man’s cheeks turned a blush color and Grimmjow broke into laughter.

 

            Even being at first hesitant because the execution of that joke was so crude, it wasn't long before Ichigo cracked up too. They laughed and laughed until Grimm coughed and complained about being light-headed and Ichigo felt his chest cramping. Such ideal relief to be carefree for a minute or two, but their heads would hopefully be clear once they reached the more populated part of town. It would take some effort to find anyone in the dark AM hours of the morning. Time was still running out.

 

~

 

            Moving at a brisk pace the two looked around for any of the flickering lights they'd seen from a distance but the buildings and aged dirt streets here were all dark. It was unfortunate that most of these were abandoned or run-down without any sign of human life as their inhabitants. This unlit section of town obviously wasn't going to be helpful.

 

            Nearing complete exhaustion from the tedious task of keeping his companion walking for so long, Ichigo was struggling and looking up at a dark window on a charred building when he felt the man he was carrying shake him. Ichigo's attention was redirected.

 

            Grimmjow slouched, holding onto the second body and pointed between two of the houses. Across the scratchy looking grasses and bushes between houses’ walls stood a fully lit area of pavement with a short singular commercial-like building. "Look'it, there," he spoke in a wearisome tone, energy waning.

 

            Ichigo squinted. He couldn't tell what it was but he had to hope that it was somewhere safe where they could get medical assistance or at least a telephone. Ichigo picked up more on Grimmjow's torso to begin hurrying toward the lit area. They moved as one over rough spots and rocks and the crumbling dry brush cutting across the unkempt terrain between houses to go toward this beacon of hope.

 

            Nearly stumbling in haste more than once, Grimmjow always caught his balance and braced against the more spry and uninjured young man that had a hold of him. He grasped the front of Ichigo shirt and shoulders, desperately trying to find his footing over and over or else tear off the front of Ichigo's shirt or knock him over. Almost jogging, more of a hopping hobble, to keep up was making those make-shift bandages rub against his already irritated gunshot wound. The jean material of his pants were sticking to the bite on his thigh as the blood around that injury was clotting faster. Grimmjow’s thigh had a feeling likened to being burned with a torch now, just like his gunshot wound. Grimmjow bit his bottom lip, a poor attempt to subdue the discomfort of traversing this crumbly, uneven ground so rapidly.

 

            The ever-vigilant Ichigo empathized silently for this companion as a witness to the tell-tale signs of suffering. He kicked a rotten bush of sorts out of their way to help; he wished for the courage to become a vessel and drain away Grimm's pain and carry it himself. Not only an impossible idea, Ichigo came to realize, but he didn't feel confident that he would ever have such an ability. Yet, being with Grimmjow and seeing this man’s pain made him continue trying. If he wasn't courageous at least he could be determined. This stretch of crumbly debris seemed to stretch farther and farther, too far. It shouldn't take this long...

 

            Finally both pairs of feet stepped out of the brush and scrubs onto worn pavement. Loose gravel crackled under the soles of their dusty shoes. Ichigo's once white converse would definitely never be white again. Trekking across the far end toward the main building, they had arrived back at the gas station; the very same one where Grimmjow had bought their food and refueled his Lamborghini. If the station was still open there were absolutely no cars anywhere.

 

            Grimmjow felt something in his shoulder pop and hissed out his agony. He also tugged roughly and forced Ichigo to stop moving just shy of the area of the pavement where the electric lights overhead touched.

 

            "What now?!" Ichigo was unbelievably tense. They were so close.

 

            "Relax!" Grimmjow commanded. "I can't feel any part of my shoulder anymore. The numbness is workin' its way up my neck. And I've got a bad feelin' about somethin’..." The exotic and bloodied man scanned the station. "This is a gas station." He jerked a thumb in the direction of the pumps and held back a grimace. "People always need gasoline for their vehicles." Subduing a pain induced groan he waited for the young man next to him to put two and two together.

 

            It was a few seconds until Ichigo caught on or allowed himself to catch on. He felt stuck, a little panic welling deep in his stomach. Panic was such a hard thing to contain.

 

            "No one's here, kid. There'd be cars linin' up if it were open. Gotta find help somewhere else."

 

            A pang of desperation wracked Ichigo and he grabbed Grimmjow, who in turn howled at Ichigo's thoughtless roughness, and hauled the man along. Tugging the arm attached by the injured shoulder, Ichigo was lucky that Grimmjow didn’t punch him for making him endur that much pain. Abruptly halting his stride beside the station’s convenient store he peered in through the store's pitch-black windows. "Fuck!" Grimmjow was right, no one was in there.

 

            Grimmjow felt the hand finally release his arm and cradled the thrumming limb, he felt dizzy. Upon hearing Ichigo cuss his thoughts began to reassemble. A temper flared deeply in his consciousness because Ichigo didn’t have to do that. A peeved glare shot up expressing his irritation and pain.

 

            With a defeated sort of look Ichigo dropped to his knees, utterly having released Grimm’s arm by now. His face was pale and tears of frustration finally broke through, "Fuck..." Ichigo balled a fist and punched the concrete ground. "Fuck!"

 

            Grimmjow wouldn't look away, he'd never seen someone else so pale and despairing. Now Ichigo started crying; this kind of a reaction made Grimm's heart ache a bit and he dismissed his irritation over the pain that Ichigo’s panic had caused him. He even winced seeing the young man’s fist strike the ground again. "Ichi...hey..." he cooed, understanding seemed the appropriate emotion.

 

            "I'll break a window or something. Th-they must k-keep a trauma kit in there."

 

            "Kid..." Getting Ichigo’s full attention was proving difficult right now.

 

            Ichigo tried to contain a hysterical sob, raising his fist to slam it down again.

 

            Knuckles didn't connect with the paving this time. Grimmjow had grabbed Ichigo's hand. "Kid... Ichigo stop."

 

            "Y-You're bleeding...a-a-and..." Ichigo sniffed and wiped under his nose with his forearm. A light kiss graced upon his hand made the bruised knuckles tingle and Ichigo meekly looked up.

 

            "Breakin' your knuckles ain't the way to fix that..." Grimmjow kissed Ichigo's hand again. Slowly leaning down, with effort, he loosened the fingers out of the fist to press the palm to his warm cheek. Soothing and seductive blue irises captured Ichigo's gaze and quietly told the young man to relax. He began to help Ichigo up.

 

            Meanwhile Ichigo didn't even notice that Grimmjow was now coaxing him to stand up while staring; he had Ichigo under his uncanny spell.

 

            Smiling instead of wincing from his pain Grimmjow stepped in close to Ichigo’s tense body and encircled him with both arms, resting his hands on Ichigo’s waist and rubbing his thumbs gently against the fabric of the shirt on the young man. "You're buggin' out...relax..."

 

            "How can you say that?!"

 

            "Would ya hush up...?"

 

            Ichigo leaned heavily on the man holding onto him and clutched at the collar of Grimm's white and bloody shirt. His eyes fixated on the dark and light red stains. This evening had started off so wonderfully, why did this have to go and make it terrible? "Grimmjow... We didn't ask for all this...shit!"

 

            "I know...I know..." In this Grimmjow was saddled with two tasks that he’d never figured he’d be in for: Not bleeding to death and comforting a hysterical teenager...one seemly procuring the other in this case.

 

            With a powerful jerk Ichigo stifled a sob to speak, "You're bleeding out..." The blood from Grimmjow's shoulder wound was bleeding more now, rubbing off on Ichigo’s hands. "What if they saw us, followed us… They'd kill us...Grimm... I really don't want to die!" Reminded that he'd never won a fight in his life, Ichigo had always been either weaker or smaller; his mind wanted to tell him that he was safe with Grimm, who could probably lay out a few guys in a row, but he wasn't fool enough to think that Grimmjow could act as their protection injured as he was now.

 

            Of the opposite mind Grimmjow was certain that they hadn't been stalked this far, "They didn't follow us. No one's comin' to kill us, got it?" He stood back a bit, hands resting on Ichigo's hips even though he was still dizzy. It took effort to use his left shoulder for anything with that injury. "Don't cry, kid. This ain't a ghost town; I'm sure there's a house nearby with people willing to help."

 

            "You need a surgeon or a doctor...not just first fucking aid! And we need a car to drive you to one!"

 

            "Well did ya see one anywhere?"

 

            "No... I just...there has to be something...Your car?"

 

            "There's no way we'd be able to make it back there. I can't walk that far again, too much energy and too much pain. Also if I lose much more blood I think I'll faint." There was no way Ichigo would be able to carry him that far.

 

            "I could run back! I could leave you here and go back for it on my own. Do you have the keys?"

 

            "Yeah, but I'm not givin' them to ya. Nothing personal..."

 

            "We have to try at least!"

 

            Grimmjow couldn't quite focus on Ichigo’s face but he cracked a smile, feeling some of the blood draining from his face, the threat of unconsciousness was creeping. He couldn’t let Ichigo run back there where those guys were hovering; Ichigo had so much life left to live… He couldn’t ask the kid to do that for his mistake. Grimmjow reflected on tonight’s better qualities. On a whim he'd met a guy whose company he enjoyed...genuinely enjoyed! Could fate really be so kind? Apparently even prostitutes got this lucky sometimes. He even got fucking laid. Overall it had been one hell of a night. Best night of his life for a long time. When Grimmjow started to get weaker his grip on Ichigo failed and his back hit the building.

 

            Ichigo was instantly at his right side, trying to keep the heavier man from falling down hard. He could see that Grimmjow's eyelids were trying to close and that blue eyes, unfocused, were shifting around with worry.

 

            Grimmjow's head was getting heavy and his head rolled side to side as if trying to figure out which position caused him less pain. His eyes flitted about but time was so sluggish and the world was getting so blurry. Unable to breathe through his nose his mouth hung gaping, body shaking, heaving in oxygen. Gradually Grimmjow realized that his hearing was failing, unable to pick up sounds.

 

            Ichigo was mouthing words in a blur, clearly unaware Grimmjow could not understand him. Desperately trying to accomplish keeping Grimmjow awake. “No please! Grimmjow no!”

 

            Next into Grimmjow’s vision were beautiful white lights filling his vision. Two dancing, bouncing, playful lights. They called to him with their apparent warmth and whimsical patterns. ‘So this is what people see just before they die...’ he considered to himself. ‘So this…is it…’ He was glad that it was so beautiful at least. The background was washed out with white light. The last thing that he could remember was the essence of fright solidly implanted in Ichigo’s features. That wasn’t so great…it was sad. Suddenly Grimmjow was on fire, his whole self it felt like, and one hot bolt seared through the right side of his chest and Ichigo's warmth was ripped from his side. Still seeing blurry and dancing lights the exotic man’s body fell down on the ground and something as cold as ice chipped into his back. Grimmjow caught fragments of muffled bellowing with his poor hearing. What was happening? He saw movement under the blare of the lights, frantic kicking as two dark smudges clustered around it. All the use of a dazed rag doll on the ground, barely even able to process what had happened in all of thirty seconds to a minute real time, Grimmjow lay still with a hollow stare forward.

 

            Ichigo's best recalcitrant efforts against his assailants lacked, and the young man only thrashed enough to irritate the men. They dropped him on the gravel and drug him across the pavement by the ankles on his back as he still bellowed and jerked about.

 

            Grimmjow was seeing sparks and flickering colors now, things were getting dark. No..this was…horrible. Something was wrong. He kept sight of a bright bobbing orange until what he didn’t realize was Ichigo was drug around the corner of a vehicle.

 

            Ichigo was on the ground by the back hitch and still kicking.

 

            Grimmjow struggled to focus his blurry sight in vain. His hearing had completely went out. He felt light headed, this was so exhausting, everything…so much dimmer. His ear rested on the pavement, incapacitated and confused he figured that orange shape that he’d seen was Ichigo. Had those men caught up? Grimmjow mouthed words as best as he could, 'I'm alright...just fine...' so Ichigo wouldn't worry wherever the young man was at. A blunt object drove down upon Grimm. Eyelids dropping, the exotic and bloodied man lay motionless against the cold ground.

 

            At that the first rays of morning light on the horizon raised their heads, and there were only the lonely screams of Ichigo to accompany dawn as the men loaded him into the back of their truck.


	14. Lacuna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: n/a

**Chapter Fourteen**

_“Lacuna”_

 

 

            _"OW!"_

_"Oh...sorry! How is this?"_

_"You're bein' too rough..." This pace was uneven, rather unfulfilling... Forgiveness was part of this whole experience though - or so he guessed. He'd almost forgotten how much he hated missionary._

_"I am...sorry..." Sarcastic voice. Eyes were shaded over under thick black hair, long, covering his sweaty face._

_"Hey..." He could feel his arm raise and hand travel over flawless, soft skin on the other's arm. "Just stop for a second... What's up?" He felt the movements against him fall still._

_"I just do not see why you stay with me, out of the multitudes of people. Your reasons are impossible to imagine."_

_"Ya don't hafta imagine them." Hands took on other hands and led the towering body down, laying over his. "I want ya forever, bet on it."_

_Under black hairs, reluctance._

_"C'mon, enjoy this thing we've got...stop thinking so much about it." A pace picked up, strong and soothing. Pain ebbed a little and then rose. "Ow..." Pain spiked once. "OW!" Again, harder and tearing. "HEY! OUCH! OUCH! STOP! STOP! STOP IT!"_

 

            Lurching upright, startled during the dream, Grimmjow tore away restraints meant to hold him down – the straps of a safety net. His forehead smacked something overhead and he was sent back into pillows hissing. Weakly he patted his head, touching at the freshly sore area. Ooooh...man...that hurt... Rolling onto his side he blinked, realizing that he could not see well, and tried to clear fog from both of his eyes. One hand came off his head and tried to support himself as his eyes began focusing. For the moment he just stared ahead into the clearing fog, gradually adjusting to the room's dim lighting. Where the hell was he?

 

            After becoming more alert he noticed that something was tugging at his face, he had a tube in his mouth! A cannula was also brushing at his nose, directing a flow of fresh oxygen. Grimmjow pulled out the tube in his mouth first. It had gone part-way down his throat so he gagged and coughed up a bit of bile or substance with it. That was extremely uncomfortable but it was better than leaving the tube in. His throat felt terrible… He pulled off the cannula next and then sneezed so hard he that thought it might have ruptured something. By now he was able to see a bit better. Weakly sitting up strait in this bed, not quite free, Grimmjow inspected the rest of his body. There where tubes stuck in him under the covers too, he could feel them touching his legs. Was this a hospital..? Probably so…

 

            He groaned softly with displeasure but decided to leave the rest of the tubes attached to him alone. The ones on his hands, IVs, he was tempted to yank on but he'd been hospitalized before and all they did was stick them right back in because you needed those. There were strange machines to his left, a door in the far-left corner, another door on the wall in front of him which was a crack's amount open. If he had a guess the cracked open door was a bathroom. With groggy haze lingering in his head Grimmjow stared and considered… It would be great if there was something in here that could distract him from this uncomfortable situation, he felt a little sickly. Grimmjow kept looking around, sitting up but a little hunched over. To the right was a long section of wide windows with thick blinds. The long white segments hung vertically. He really hated those kinds of blinds, unless they were patterned and hanging down from a really tall window, they screamed 'hospital' and were so bleak it wasn't even funny, not even remotely. Besides that, he couldn't see outside. Was it day or night? He would have really liked to see the blue sky to prove that he was still amongst the people in the world of the living and not residing in some twisted underworld.

 

            Colors nearby in the dim light caught his eye. A basket of brightly colored flowers was sitting on the platform under the window. A big light blue colored silk ribbon was tied around its narrowed base. The basket was decorative too. Grimmjow wondered for a second, who'd put those there? They must've gotten the wrong room. These things looked expensive. Glancing around more he looked at stand beside the bed on the right, more sentimental junk. Seriously?! Who'd put all this stuff in his room? Grimm looked back behind himself at an overhead shelf…wary of finding a huge overstuffed bear or plush animal waiting to fall on him... There were just more machines up there, and one smaller vase with a single rose in it. This lone rose caught his attention particularly; just like the other flowers it looked healthy and perky, but there was some aura about it.

 

            The rose in particular warmed his heart a bit more than everything else. It made him think about Ichigo, and that made him grin. That goofy teenager...where was he anyway? Grimmjow stiffened as unpleasant memories flooding his mind. Oh right…they’ve been separated… Fleeing from the barn. The corpse on the floor. Jumping fences. Running away from dogs and guns. Grimm recalled, with a pang, being shot and reflexively touched his shoulder. There was a wound there. Then there was the dog bite, a touch to his right thigh. Also wounds there. What else had happened? The man was trying to recall. He didn't really like the feelings accompanying vague memories but he wanted to recall what he could. Ichigo and he had run into the town...Falts-something-or-other...looking for help. The gas station... There was distress because they hadn’t found help and comfort then... ‘Aah shit...I got light headed...a bunch of lights…and something else...damnit...’ he mumbled a few thoughts in his head. Looking around at all the decorations maybe Ichigo was responsible for that? It was just one night they'd spent together though... ‘That kid wouldn't send this much shit for somethin' dumb like this...I'm just a little scraped up and we hardly knew each other...’

 

            Grimmjow felt a light tug at his chest. "Ooo..." He grimaced, palm patting against some gauze tapped tight down to the base of his left peck. What was under there?! It stung whatever it was. He tried inspecting his left shoulder where he’d been shot but there was gauze affixed to it. That particular joint, his shoulder, was feeling pretty stiff. Grimmjow hoped that he'd be able to use that arm freely again soon. Movement was important to him for a lot of reasons but mainly because it was heavily a part of his job at the club.  Grimm knew that Szayel was not going to be happy about his current physical condition putting him out for a while without warning as it was.

 

            Suddenly fast clacking sound approached the room from somewhere outside in a probable hallway. All of Grimmjow's attention was drawn to the door on his left as it opened and a woman in a white button-down blouse and cream-colored skirt appeared through the crack, "OOOH MY!" She shuffled into the room holding a clipboard in one hand with ruffled papers and sticky-notes held on its surface and a pen dangling from a string off its bow. She looked astounded. Her spare hand's fingers were at her gasping mouth. "You're awake Mr. Jaegerjaquez!"

 

            'Awake' huh? Grimmjow tried to talk to her but wound up coughing a bit before being able to say anything. His throat felt so wretched. He squinted, "Surprised ya know how to say that right. So…how many hours have I been out?"

 

            She was stunned for a second but quickly realized a few things she should do. The woman scuttled over to the machines, not setting the clipboard down. She was pressing buttons and regulating things about the machines’ functions obviously. "Of course, I've seen similar names before, but yours is very elegant. That last bit is Spanish I think so it wasn't hard to pronounce. My parents are from Spain." She turned from the machine and smiled at him. "The paramedics found your wallet and ID in your pants pocket so at least we knew who you were."

 

            "So…ya have all my info to pay for all... _this_?"

 

            "Oh...I'm not so sure if we have everything we need yet. Are you sure that you want to think about this right now..?"

 

            “Yeah, it would make me feel better.”

 

Without Grimmjow realizing it this woman was testing his cognitive thoughts. It was good that he was able to converse so realistic and perceptively. "Oh, ok! Well, method of payment isn't something I'm in charge of, but..! Your doctor will definitely know more. Would you like to talk to him first thing tomorrow?"

 

            This chick was overly happy considering the situation but at least she was turning out to be rather helpful and her tone of voice was pleasantly optimistic. "Yeah sure. Can we leave these…tubes off?" Grimmjow pointed toward the tube that had been down his throat and the canula that had been up his nose.

 

            "Mhmm, for a little while but the oxygen one might need to go back on if you have trouble breathing." She chirped. "Oh!" Stopping just as she opened the door the woman gestured to him. "I should probably follow procedure and have you lay down because, uh...you're bleeding a tiny bit...here. It’s just the skin." She held the door ajar with her heel and tapped the top of the left side of her head. It really wasn’t a big deal.

 

            Grimmjow looked up toward his forehead, not that he could really see it but it was reflexive habit. His fingertips brushed at stitches on the right side of his parietal bone atop his skull. He could feel subtle bumps where there were threads through the skin of his scalp and coarse shaved hair growing back in around it. Fuck...that hair was going to take forever to grow back. Now Szayel was really going to throw a fit. Grimmjow didn’t remember getting this injury though… He could feel a trail of sticky blood on his scalp.

 

            The nurse had been watching, unsure apparently whether he needed her to assist. "Oohh...darn. Here..." She let the door close and brought Grimmjow a cut swatch of clean gauze.

 

            "I can't exactly feel where it is..."

 

            "That's alright..." She blotted gently at his scalp. "I've got it... You know I don't think I've ever seen a patient wake up with such energy."

 

            "Bad dream. Whacked my head on that shelf when I woke up I guess."

 

            "Oh, I'm sorry. Well if it wasn't for that rise in your BPM I wouldn't have come to check on you. Good things come in strange ways sometimes, don't they?" She giggled.

 

            That was the girliest sound he'd ever heard. "Heh...sure..." For some reason it was a little consoling, at least she was a nice lady, pretty too. As she backed off, examining the stitching after the blood was cleaned up, Grimmjow smiled, "Thanks. Uh, before ya go out and do whatever, uuh...how long did ya say I was out for?"

 

            "Oh, I'm sorry, I've gotten sidetracked." She'd recognized her forgetfulness to check on that question for him. "Umm..." Wandering to the foot of the bed and leaning to look at some papers clipped there she read them. "Here it says...'With a severe concussion...three months' and several days." It was only because of her patient’s calm and intelligent state of mind that she told him this right away. Patients with less stable mental and physical conditions upon waking weren’t told right away.

 

            The world ceased its rotation... Three months?! Grimmjow blinked once and looked about aimlessly reasoning out what he'd just heard. That long?! And a concussion. He must've been hit pretty hard…that explained where this wound on his head was from.

 

            The nurse stood up strait. "Well...three months with those injuries... They didn't think you'd make it. Considering the location of your concussion though, your doctor said there was some hope." She cradled the clipboard against her chest. "You were the first person I got to help in the operation room. Really I don't think I would even know a mild concussion from a severe one."

 

            Half of Grimmjow's mouth curled up in a smart little smile. "Well I hope ya did a good job."

 

            "Oh it was mostly the surgeons who did the cutting and stitching but I did my best on the things they gave me to do to assist. I think though the part I hated the most was shaving that spot of your hair...I know that's silly but it's such an unnatural color and beautiful!"

 

            Grimmjow was still trying to be positive, which was tough with that massive time skip looming over his head. The nurse's remark though, it made him genuinely laugh. Laughing for real felt so good, it lifted some of the leaden stress. "I'd bet ya wouldn't believe me if I told ya it really grows in that color."

 

            She blushed a little and tried to conceal a bashful smile, looking down for a moment then back up. "Actually... One of my tasks was also to cut off your clothing and if it's blue down there too I'm a believer."

 

            "Ya might be surprised. In my line of work...it's not farfetched to dye those too."

 

            An interest from the woman seemed to rise. "Your line of work?" She leaned on the foot of the bed. "Are you a model?" Her eyes seemed to shine at the possibility.

 

            "Somethin' like that." A model, sure…just one wearing significantly less clothing for an audience's viewing pleasure.

 

            "Well look at me just wasting time. Would you still like me to bring your doctor down here first thing tomorrow? I have to inform him of your current status anyway."

 

            "Yeah, or right away. Is he in the building? I could just go talk to him."

 

            "Well...I think you'll find that bed a good place to stay for at least a few more days. We've had to perform several surgeries over the course of those three months, one was three days ago so you're probably fairly weak... As for Doctor Kurosaki, he's gone home for the night. It's about eleven thirty PM. He usually leaves at ten forty-five, he's got a family and all. He's always available by telephone though if you really want."

 

            "Nah, I'll wait. I wouldn’t wanna cut in on his family time."

 

            "I think he might faint if you told him you were his three-month comatose patient over the phone. It really is quite amazing how coherent you are after just waking up. So many patients can't even manage to sit up." The nurse was still boggling.

 

            Was something so simple, picking up your back, really _that_ incredible after being asleep or whatever for a long time? Grimmjow rubbed along his chin, the hairs growing weren't a beard and he felt generally clean for the most part. "Who’s been takin' care of me this whole time? My stubble should be longer than this unless someone's been shavin' me."

 

            The woman smiled warmly as she returned to the door. "Well mostly your doctor and me. I'm here on and off every day of the week. He taught me how to properly shave a man’s face and it's one of a few things we've taken care of for you."

 

            "Huh...well shit... I owe ya somthin' then."

 

            "Oh it's alright. My best friend was in a coma for a month, ever since then taking care of coma patients is something I enjoy doing. I'm off for a few hours to sleep though, it has been a very long night. I'll be back tomorrow with your doct- I mean Doctor Kurosaki."

 

            "Alright, hey, uh...thanks again."

 

            She beamed one last time before disappearing from the room. The door latch clacked lightly and everything fell dead silent.

 

            Grimmjow rubbed one of his eyes but he didn't even feel tired. Eleven o’clock… What a shitty time to wake up at after three months...but at least he had woken up. After that sweet nurse's conversation with him he felt a little better, spirits slightly lifted. Although there still existed a void in his chest. For once solitude didn't feel as refreshing; he hoped Ichigo would come to visit him, if that young man even knew where he was... Unlikely perhaps.

 

            Grimmjow glanced around the room again, staring at the flowers and snacks left arranged. He really wasn't hungry or in the mood to admire flowers but maybe someone really cared enough to leave him all this. If it had been three months and those flowers, snacks, fruit, small boxes of cakes, and such looked so fresh whomever had brought them had either guessed near the exact time of his waking or they'd been refreshing the gifts all along.

 

            Laying back on the comfy bed and listening to the almost quiet of the hospital room the window blinds began to rustle. A window must be cracked open... A gentle breeze came, cool air drifted through the room and was much appreciated. Still missing his playmate, a relaxed Grimmjow drifted to sleep fantasizing about Ichigo walking in tomorrow dressed up as his doctor. He grinned slightly. That idea eased the upsetting loneliness out his mind; some things about Grimmjow like his rather lewd thoughts were just die-hard, regardless of his condition.


	15. Remembrance Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: n/a

**Chapter Fifteen**

_“Remembrance Romance”_

 

 

            "Ichigo..." The lazy, groggy teenager barely stirred as his father made an attempt to rouse him from deep slumber. Isshin took a look at the digital clock on his son’s bedside dresser, six twenty-four it read. Ichigo hadn't even set its alarm for morning. The determined father shook his son a bit harder and raised his voice, "Son! Wake up!" At this rate Ichigo was going to miss out of his school’s first hour...

 

            The no longer slumbering young man made a little bit of sound and opened one sleepy eye, "Nnngh...go away dad...I don't feel good."

 

            "Son, as much respect as I have for the ill, you've fed me that line over and over, so many times these past few months. I swear if I hear that again next week at any point I'm taking you into the hospital for treatment."

 

            Ichigo groaned and hid his face with the bed sheets.

 

            "This all started just after your accident. If you're afraid to go back to school because of those bullies we need to have you talk to someone." Isshin sat down on the edge of the bed, Ichigo had been facing the wall away from him all this time so it was difficult to decipher any indicative feelings behind his son's tone. The blanket now pulled over Ichigo's face didn't help any either. "At least talk to me, son..."

 

            "I've already told you what I remember," Ichigo snapped.

 

            "Ichigo, c'mon. I'm your old man and I’d hate to think that there are things you're bottling up. I just want you to start feeling better."

 

            "Talking about it makes me feel worse, dad."

 

            Isshin paused, sensitive to the truth of the statement. With a calm sigh he patted Ichigo's covered form then rose to leave the room. At the doorway he spoke before venturing to wake Ichigo's sisters, "I'll let this slide, just this one _last_ time. You're old enough to help yourself if you won't allow anyone else to, but if you do want to talk more about it I'm here for you, son. If you feel like this again we’re going to get you some help. I'm going to leave a list of groceries and the money for them under a magnet on the fridge before I drive in to work. If you're feeling up to it take your car and drive to the store. Being out of this stuffy house for a while might clear your head and it’s always fun to spend someone else’s money. Buy a few things from the store for yourself."

 

            Ichigo didn't respond, laying still - save for his breathing - as his father closed his door quietly. He could hear his sisters buzzing around in the hallway a few moments later. Yuzu was always so happy and cheery in the morning, glad for a new day regardless. Karin...not so much, she wasn't a morning person or an optimist. Neither was Ichigo, but he wasn't always such a groggy morning type… Three months ago there was nothing wrong with waking up early and getting to school a half an hour before first period began. Now all the days just meshed together. It confused him when someone asked the date of the month or what day of the week it was… Saturday and Sunday had the most distinction from other days simply because he wasn't in school and he still played sports on the weekends, a little change of pace but not much.

 

            Ichigo heard Yuzu and Karin's thrumming feet barreling down the stairs and took the covers away from his face. He glanced at his bedroom door to confirm that he had privacy; it was closed and there was no one else in the room. He lay idle in bed for a solid fifteen minutes more until the orange rays of sunrise through his wide bedroom window caught his attention.

 

            Allowing the chilly morning air to seep into his skin by shedding the layer of blankets over his torso, Ichigo lay stationary on his side considering the different shades of orange he could see. They were like the northern lights of suburbia, everyone here could easily see them if they bothered to get up early enough. The young man, cold now but somewhat enjoying that refreshing feeling, eventually sat up and stared out of his orange christened window.

 

            Birds hopped upon the overhanging roof in front of the house where he could see and in the trees. Autumn leaves plastered themselves to the roof tiles and covered the ground. The entire landscape of surrounding buildings, lit from sunrise, stretched before him. Who else was like him, sitting in front of their window, possibly just bare formed, and staring outside?

 

            Nearly two months ago, when his initial shock had worn off, Ichigo arrived at a concluding thought, and now it wouldn't leave his mind... Watching the front walk, Yuzu and Karin skipped down their walkway and through the small black gate in front of the house to their father's car. From his high place Ichigo peered over the brick wall at Isshin while his father helped both sisters put their backpacks in the trunk of his small black car.

 

            Ichigo's mind drifted as his stare became aimless. He'd stopped going places with friends after school and after dark, events he typically enjoyed, all forfeited to make time to secretively check at the club for Grimmjow. Though after a month or so Ichigo no longer went to the club to search, hopeful for some clue no longer it felt. Ignoring his friends when he wasn't at school had become a routine he still followed with no continuing purpose. Loneliness...it must be like drowning, slow and regrettable. The realization coiled itself around his brain and tried to restrict the blood flow, torture...so slow and painful... He wasn't likely to see Grimmjow ever again. Eventually Ichigo decided to shut off the rest of the world to cope with that painful idea. Never again would he be able to touch that exotic man’s handsome face - skin so familiar by now - or run his fingers through his blue hair. The last glimpse of Grimmjow he'd caught was bloody, still, and about to die; it was such an unacceptable goodbye.

 

            Those thugs or murderers, whoever they were, might have scoffed at Ichigo’s scrawny existence enough and decided not to kill him or carelessly overlooked his faint pulse and accidentally spared him. All and all, Ichigo had been lucky, they hadn't beat him over the head like Grimmjow, and a gun wasn't fired again just used to threaten him if he tried something. He'd been kicked around pretty good and punched across the face a few times, but the most serious wound was on his shoulder. A stab wound there had been deep enough to scratch bone but no bones were broken. They had also drug Ichigo across the rough concrete and dirt to get him in and out of the truck. That should count for injury too, it had left horrid abrasions and soreness all over his body.

 

            Clutching tightly to his pillow, held against his chest, the recollections continued to roll. Considering his own good fortune made something in Ichigo's heart ache. Poor Grimmjow had taken a much worse beating, a mauling really... What could they have done with that man? Two months ago admitting the likely truth would have utterly wrecked his composure but after thinking about it over and over the subject became sturdy and nonnegotiable. Those masked assailants _wouldn't_ waste much of their time on a half dead man.

 

            Interrupting Ichigo's thoughts was Isshin, still outside, and just about to step into his car; his dad was staring up at the bedroom window, he'd noticed his son there. Ichigo sighed at being noticed, trying to shed his depressing thoughts as easily as the bed sheets and waved to his dad below. Isshin waved back with a smile.

 

            Ichigo rested his forehead against the cold glass window until his family pulled away from the house and drove up the street. He remembered being found, on the shoulder of the highway where the thugs had kicked him into a grassy ditch. Much later some stranger, a heavier-set man, had blown a tire and pulled over on the highway to change it when he'd spotted Ichigo laying tied up and gagged in the ditch. The man had helped Ichigo out of the shreds of material used to bind him and then as per Ichigo’s request called Isshin instead of calling the emergency line first. While waiting for Isshin they got a chance to talk, Ichigo was even strong enough to help the man finish changing his car's blown tire. That was an example of how relatively minor most of the young man’s injuries had been. Not to mention Ichigp felt indebted to this guy for helping him. When Ichigo's father arrived he'd brought an ambulance and a team of paramedics from the hospital where he worked. All the excess attention wasn't appreciated by Ichigo or the man who'd rescued him, that guy took off as soon as he could. The best thing about it though was that no one had called the police. When questioned by his father Ichigo said some guys had picked a fight with him and gotten a bit rough. No one had mentioned to Isshin that his son had been tied up when found and Ichigo certainly wasn't going to elaborate more about his adventure.

 

            Why protect such an awful truth?

 

            Because... If Grimmjow were alive he would suffer infinitely more if authorities found out what he and Ichigo had been up to. Trespassing would be the first legal violation they would both share. Grimmjow could have faced an additional felony charge for buying alcohol for him because Ichigo was underage, and Ichigo would be charged for his fake ID placing him at the club where Grimmjow worked. The fact that they were using the highway as a drag strip might also factor into the timeline of things. Ichigo and Grimmjow might be in jail for a little while for the smaller charges, trespassing and possessing a forged ID would definitely warrant some community service too, but Grimmjow could likely spend a lot more time behind bars for supplying a nineteen-year-old with alcohol and driving recklessly. The man might even permanently lose his driver’s license; that would be devastating for Grimm... It didn't matter if what transpired between him and Grimm was consensual or not, if the police were told any of these details they couldn't overlook them and most of the details tied into one another. So, guarding the truth with a clenched jaw protected Grimmjow’s freedom, his job, and his dignity. A meaningful cause...especially if Grimmjow had survived.

 

            That wasn't the likely outcome, Ichigo's brain reminded him again.

 

            Ichigo blew on the window, fogging up the glass. He was depressed and his mind was having trouble adjusting. At least guarding such dirty secrets made him feel as though there was a man alive which he was doing all of this for. Damnit, Grimmjow in general was just too lively to lay down and accept death, wasn't he? Memories of him were too vivid. That man didn't go down without a fight, he'd proven it…but that was so why did Ichigo feel such an empty pit in his still churning gut?

 

            Chin off of the window pane and sitting up again, Ichigo looked down at himself and traced the lines of his abdominals with one finger. Maybe there was a little guilt in there too. After all he wasn't _just_ keeping their dirty secret for Grimmjow, his own dignity and freedom was at stake too. If his father ever knew that he'd gone with Nnoitora to that club, drank alcohol, had sex with a prostitute, any of those things, Ichigo would have been lectured until his ears blew out and the many privileges he enjoyed would be kaput.

 

            The sun was almost hovering above the horizon, glowing with clear light instead of oranges now. Ichigo reached over to the head of his bed and lifted a folded short sleeve shirt from a secretive spot where he'd left it. He kept the literally bloody thing under his pillow every night, close enough to touch but not obvious enough for anyone else to see. This had all started out as some thrill-seeking venture. He'd just been looking for a hook-up, just some sexual relief, and what had come of that had turned into so much that he could barely handle it. He'd made some kind of a friend out of Grimmjow he guessed. Perhaps that was how to best describe it. It was obvious that Grimmjow liked him; Ichigo liked Grimmjow as a person too. Ichigo found himself clutching the bloody t-shirt to his bare chest trying to hold back a few tears. He hadn't cried over this for two months, why start up again now?

 

            Holding back his feelings a bit to keep them from erupting he soaked the shirt’s already stained material. Then Ichigo lifted the shirt up in front of the window by its collar. Bright morning sun cast light through the fabric and highlighted the brown stains. The shirt was mostly covered in Grimmjow's blood - not his own - which just made its sentimentality increase. That was how lowly this situation was, how low he felt, because this was the last thing he had to cling to besides the memories of someone that he thought was amazing and vivid.

 

            Ichigo could still feel the chill seeping in from his closed window arriving at his skin and soaking in; it seemed colder now. He lowered the shirt and left it on his lap. Rubbing his eyes Ichigo tried distracting himself by planning out his day. First, tidy up his room and the living room downstairs. Then maybe he would take that list and get the things that his father had written down. Finally, when all of that was over with, he might just call up Nnoitora to go get coffee or something so he could talk to someone. Nnoitora was different than his school friends. Talking with Renji, Orihime, Chad, and Uryu he'd tried, but after Renji had scoffed at his mention of Grimmjow, Ichigo rightfully wanted to avoid being laughed at again. Ichigo had only given them a brief and vague story but it definitely included the amazing exotic man.

 

            Ichigo’s old boyfriend, Renji, had announced that he thought that Ichigo was making it all up. Apparently the wonderful description really sounded phony or too good to be true because the rest of his pals had chuckled a little too. Hmph! Nnoitora wouldn't laugh at him. That overly playful man knew when to be serious. He'd already talked to Ichigo several times to calm him down and given all the wise counsel he could. Sometimes hearing advice again could help. Still needing to talk to someone, at least Ichigo had one friend that believed him and knew he needed advice more than just empathy. Nnoitora had briefly met Grimmjow so he knew the man himself was real. As far as the story, he only had Ichigo's word for it and at the beginning the healing injuries that Ichigo had retained from his struggle with the thugs were proof too. Ichigo had been more specific and detailed in talking with Nnoitora about what had happened. Nnoitora had told the young man honestly that he was likely to shake his head at such an outrageous tale, but the emotion it had evoked during the telling was all the proof he needed to believe that it was true. That man wanted Ichigo to move on and accept what had happened as the past, a past that couldn't be changed this late in the game. 'If he's gone he's been gone fer a while. That's that, but if he's still with us an' wants ya, he'll come ta find ya.'

 

            Oh how desperately Ichigo hoped for that. What had started out as an infatuation with skin and physical appearance had changed into something altogether more fulfilling. Even knowing him for such a short time, Grimmjow was someone special, and even if his return wasn't likely Nnoitora reminded Ichigo that there was a chance.


	16. Recovery Extraordinaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: n/a

**Chapter Sixteen**

_“Recovery Extraordinaire”_

 

 

_"I really am sorry...did I hurt you?"_

_"Nah."_

_"Tough guy...are you?"_

_"Only on the outside."_

_"And on the inside?"_

_A long pause and a torrent of pink petals swept the black-haired form away. Disappearing completely from the grand aesthetic scene. He was left there alone, the question reverberating on the wind as more petals from the ground swirled. 'On the inside?' It echoed..._

 

            "Mr. Jaegerjaquez? Hello~o?"

 

            Very, _very_ slowly Grimmjow’s eyelids cracked, reluctant to stop dreaming. "Hhnnn?" Someone with a flashlight was blinding him. Grimmjow squeezed his sore eyes closed, rolling them in their sockets to refresh his vision. "Get that shit outta my face," he snapped.

 

            "So sorry to wake you." The flashlight clicked off.

 

            The exotic man groaned, looking up at an unfamiliar face. "What time is it?"

 

            The man looming over his patient casually scratched the nape of his neck then checked his wristwatch. "About three in the afternoon. You slept for a mighty long while."

 

            Grimmjow yawned, "...fuck." He disliked the scummy feeling in his mouth. "Where's that nurse...?"

 

            "Isane? She's resting, asleep somewhere. I hadn't even a shoe in the front doors this morning before she ran right up, 'Mr. Jaegerjaquez is awake!' I'll admit that surprised me, for the better." The doctor coughed and grinned with a fierce air of confidence, "Ahem, and I am not a man who's easily caught off his guard."

 

            Tough guy routine, Grimmjow saw through that, but it was still humorous. He'd managed to sit up while the black-haired man blabbed away. Was it just him or was his doctor just a bit too energetic? Well...this guy might have been too energetic for a groggy man who'd just been forced out of sleep with a flashlight beam. Energy could be such an overwhelming thing.

 

            "And where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself!"

 

            "Huh? Oh...yeah...a name would be nice."

 

            A strong, calloused hand extended to be clasped. "Doctor Isshin Kurosaki! Taking care of your needs personally since square one, when you arrived at our humble hospital."

 

            Figuring the ecstatic man expected him to 'shake' Grimmjow did so with a firm grip. Normally around such friendly men he did tricks for treats but it didn't hurt to be polite. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

 

            Cracking a smile as he still held palm to palm with Grimmjow, Isshin shook his head in pleasant disbelief. "Granted you've had a few hours of rest to recuperate...a firm handshake might seem small but it’s actually a really good sign. I really believe Isane now! She said that you had so much energy that the safety netting was ripped clean off the bed! Either you're persistently strong or you just recover at warp speed."

 

            "I'd like to think it's a little of both doc."

 

            "Call me Isshin if you’d like. Now for the cliché ice breaker: how do you feel, Mister Jaegerjaquez?"

 

            Thoughts parted from his odd-ball doctor and redirected to his own physical state. "My chest stings a little under this right pec, it was doin' that all last night. What's this gauze coverin'? I don’t remember getting’ hurt there." The exotic man gently patted the taped down gauze just under his right pec curiously.

 

            Isshin chuckled. "Well that's the unfortunate site of another gunshot wound. That sucker got a little cozy with your right lung but you’ll be alright luckily enough."

 

            Grimmjow blinked once. He'd been shot in the chest...when?!

 

            "Since three months have passed it's mostly healed up. We extracted the bullets, they didn’t pass through, in both gunshot wounds as soon as the paramedics rolled you in. There was no infection or poisoning and the inner tissues in your lungs recovered from the lower wound under your pectoral. Your shoulder also recovered nicely without risk of permanent damage, and that bite on your thigh wasn't festering or from a rabid animal and that was the easiest of the three to repair. You will likely have scars unless you choose to get plastic surgery. Though, your body was battling severe hypovolemic shock from ballistic trauma when you got here, I cannot lie, it was bad. Your life was in danger in that respect. So, to make a painfully ingenious medical rant incredibly short: You were only on the brink of death because of a lack of oxygen infused blood cells reaching your organs. Bleeding to death." Isshin patted Grimmjow's arm in a friendly and reassuring manner. He was very pleased to find out that Isane’s mentions about how competent their patient was proved true. Grimmjow’s cognitive thoughts hadn’t suffered from being out for those months. "Anyway, that's all past. Are any other parts of you feeling funny or unpleasant? It's important to tell me if something doesn't feel right." Isshin studied the exotic man’s expression for hidden signs of angst, sometimes people were worried about being honest.

 

            "Well I gotta piss pretty bad if that counts." Grimmjow gestured to the IV tube with one long finger. "Do I need _that_ anymore? Or _this_?" He frowned lifting an uncomfortable tube that was definitely a urinary catheter taped to his inner thigh. Grimmjow had no proper medical history with those…but he did have a history of a client liking unique medical kinks, so he knew what it was.

 

            Well that was a very to the point response. In thought for a moment Isshin shook his head. "I wouldn't know just yet. How about you try standing up." Taking a step back Isshin paused, "Do you need a hand?"

 

            "Nah. Ya think I can't walk, doc?" Baring a cocky grin Grimmjow's feet met the freezing floor. Hairs on his legs prickled as he carefully rose up off the bed. None of this felt really good, he was just sick of being in that damn bed already. Balance came only seconds after the blood rushed into his legs and really began to circulate. With a few deep breaths and moving his legs one at a time before he actually tried to walk Grimmjow paced back and forth a few times, each step more sure than the last. Damn, it felt so good to flex his calves and knees but the tubes still attached to him made it a little annoying.

 

            Isshin smiled, "That is just unbelievable..." and laughed, impressed with his patient’s recuperation rate as much as the exotic man’s daunting height. Isshin had Grimmjow lay down on the bed again briefly to remove the catheter.

 

            The cerulean-haired man hated this but he didn’t fuss.

 

            Next Isshin allowed Grimmjow to sit up and took out the IV's needle, cleaned and wrapped a bandage around the small bleeding dot where it had punctured into the man’s arm. "This may only be temporary, but you've demonstrated essential walking capability, your vitals are fine, and you have your wits about you so I will leave you here alone to mind yourself for little while. If you have an emergency, as in _anything_ not normal happens no matter how minor it seems, give that red button beside your bed..." he directed attention at the door leading to the hallway where there was a similar button, "...or this one on the door frame a click." He didn’t tell Grimmjow that there was still a wireless heartrate monitor taped to his chest beside the wound under his pec; Isshin didn’t want him to fuss with it. If this man’s heartbeat fluctuated oddly it would notify a nurse automatically. Heading for the door Isshin took one look back at the tall, muscular, cerulean-haired male standing content beside the bed, who was obviously grateful for his new freedom. "You're something definitely of the ordinary Mister Jaegerjaquez. I don't know how you have the strength to stand. Is much of your memory intact as well?"

 

            "Everything I knew before I figure I know now, so yeah."

 

            Isshin smiled, shaking his head again with that same pleasant disbelief, "Something heavenly must have you under its wing."

 

            Yeah right...crazy old man. Heaven didn’t open up for people like him, or so Grimmjow believed. It was a miracle called ‘dumb luck’. "When ya get back I have some other stuff I wanna talk about, like the financial stuff, and if ya could I'd _really_ appreciate a tooth brush."

 

            "You bet! And some good toothpaste." Isshin fired Grimmjow some gleeful kind of smile then exited without another word.

 

            Isshin Kurosaki...Grimmjow thought to himself, what an odd guy but he was alright. If the exotic man only knew that he had closer connection with his doctor than he could presently imagine.


	17. Ayúdame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: nudity and masturbation

**Chapter Seventeen**

_“_ _Ayúdame”_

 

 

            So in his present well-recovering condition Grimmjow was now aware of a few more things: the names of the staff members that he would have to deal with, that he'd been shot an extra time, that he'd nearly died of blood loss, and that he'd been in a coma for three months from a concussion. Now to figure out what else there was worthy of knowing... God forbid that there was anything worse. Just after Doctor Isshin had left, Grimmjow rather immediately looked for his chart which he'd seen that nurse reading last night. It was gone. "Damnit." He'd have to try remembering more clues until he got a hold of records. How much could a non-omniscient memory help? There were just some things that Grimmjow couldn’t have known while he was out.

 

            Observation prove more useful than speculation. Where was he exactly? What hospital? Open blinds let in warm sunlight, bouncing off the linoleum tile, that nearly blinded him if he looked at it directly. The gifts of flowers and metallic bags were oh so shiny in the radiance of daylight, at least they perked up the drab room. All this didn't tell him the name of the hospital he was in though. Perhaps he should have asked the doctor or his nurse but he didn't want them to know he was so curious because they might start to ask more questions.

 

            Grimmjow figured that he could do enough investigating to find out on his own, he could walk and see and think after all. Grimmjow managed to tip-toe across an unsettling cold floor to the bathroom. Earlier he'd fibbed about having to piss really bad. That tiny fib had certainly worked well as an excuse to get the tubes out of him and get off of that bed. He even had privacy now. Pushing the door all the way open Grimmjow frowned finding more cold tiling in the bathroom. "Aaah...damnit..." Spying a small carpeted bathmat Grimmjow grabbed pulled it over in front of the sink by the corner to stand on and that was that, he hated cold bathroom floors. The man immediately turned the water on and swished it around in his mouth then promptly spit out. It helped a little with that icky scummy texture.

 

            Having his head up…a scary face stared back at him in the mirror. His reflection unfortunately. It was much less than pristine than his usual and seemed so haggard. Small hairs were beginning to grow on his chin again from lack of a morning shave today. Grimmjow had heard it straight from that nice nurse, Isane or whatever the doctor had said her name was, that she’d been taking care of shaving his face. Puffy, weary bags under Grimmjow eyes were obvious. Long ago the bruises on one of his cheeks where it had been beaten into the ground had faded out. Grimmjow felt upward on his skull for the patch of short fuzz and stitches on top of his head. It was a unique texture to touch, all bristly and soft, but not so much that way right beside those stitches; there it was a bit crumbly with dried blood and the hair was much shorter or gone entirely. He didn’t poke at it a lot, it hurt. Isane had thought that she was being kind by only shaving down the hair near incision site and nowhere else but in truth Grimmjow felt that it just made him look goofy; he couldn’t exactly cover up that patch with the rest of his hair.

 

            Everywhere else his blue hairs were wavy, disheveled locks, a long mess that he cringed to think about brushing. Grimmjow tried to put his goofy hair out of his mind and washed his face clean in the sink and rubbed water from his eyes with his fingers, letting the rest drip down his skin. That felt better. Then he took a few steps back from the mirror to see what other damage had been done… This hospital gown did not flatter him at all, plus it was in the way. Loosing all strings on that idiotic backless apron he chuckled smugly, reminded of several outfits that he'd worn like this that were simple to remove with the pinch and tug of a string. Clients and spectators seemed to be extremely fond of the idea of pulling one little string and the rest of the fabric would just cascading off of their entertainer or playmate. All undone with just one string, Grimmjow couldn't count anymore the number of times that he'd sold himself that way. It was a method that he didn’t mind. He cast down the ugly garment and admired his bare muscular reflection, nothing had atrophied; Grimmjow was vastly comfortable without clothing on. Being naked was easy and natural and he was proud of his physique.

 

            Curiosity knocked when he glanced at the taped down patches over his healed wounds. That was right...he still had wounds under the gauze on various parts of him. Unwisely he began peeling the tape from his thigh in a swift motion the sticky strips left a red burn and some adhesive. Damnit! That hurt! Grimmjow grumbled while carefully inspecting the partly healed ring of teeth marks. That one wasn't too bad, they were small wounds now and looked like they were healing without issue. "Frickin' dog..." Next the chest and shoulder. He pulled those taped bandages off slower and did in fact notice the heartrate monitor. Of all things…Grimmjow left the monitor alone. He went back to inspecting his old wounds. The bullet holes in both areas were closed up and each had left a mark about the size of a quarter with some damaged skin around them. Grimmjow was pleased that the second bullet that got him just under his bulging pec hadn't come any closer to his heart or his nipple. Dreading what his handler, Szayel, would say about these scars was enough by itself. If Pinkie had to help him with replacing a whole nipple through surgery he'd owe several thousand dollars more.

 

            Grimmjow noticed that the flesh on his back begged to be scratched and as he reached around he felt a huge patch of very fresh gauze covering the entirety of his back and shoulder blades. He was a bit numb back there…perhaps from laying on his back for so long or maybe they’d given him a drug through his IV this morning. Either way Grimmjow had no idea why he needed gauze on his back. Once again unable to help himself he tore that tape away and lifted the gauze, twisting before the mirror to see what it hid. Grimmjow was lucky that these gauze covered wounds were already closed for his futzing around with them.

 

            "What the fuck?!" Transitioning into disheartenment, he was turned to see his back in the mirror and counted six long white scars scattered haphazardly over his back in a fashion that betrayed their cause. They were stab wounds. "Goddamnit!" The entertainer felt his heart sink in his chest. He would be in such deep shit with Szayel over these. Six...long...fucking huge…scars... Fuck! In the past Grimmjow had gotten a single accidental scar on the inside of his thigh; that was a mighty precious place to have a ‘blemish’. Szayel had worked on it every day for weeks with a cream to get rid of the unsightly mark. The future was now dark with the realization that these couldn’t hidden. The only reason Grimmjow never fought that pink haired fruit-loop off was because Szayel knew exactly what to do for every incident, and how to cover most any blemish, but Grimmjow couldn’t kid himself about these. They were extremely bad. Pinkie would agree. It was Szayel who had him wear cock rings and BSDM accessories that were pretty awkward on multiple occasions, but that man did his job and helped Grimmjow sell his body. So Szayel was essential.

 

            In further consideration of his appearance, apart from the scars there was also Grimmjow's messed up hair. He could shave off the hair on the right _half_ of his head. Half…his head… It was a little daunting. Grimmjow had never shaved his head before. He couldn’t shave it all off to match sides, people liked it longer and so did he. Half wasn’t so bad, he could start working right away when he got out of here. Szayel could easily fix him up with some punk themed outfits that could work with his hair and his scars for the time being. Then he wouldn’t look like some guy who got himself an odd haircut for no reason. A gothic theme might work too, but that look was a bit extreme and it might come off as too morbid for an audience; besides that, Grimmjow disliked the idea of having to wear a lot of clothing and jewelry with long spikes while pole-dancing. That was a difference between goths and punks right? Long versus short decorative spikes? Grimmjow didn’t know a whole lot about these subcultures. Other entertainers who weren't climbing on poles all night might be able to comfortably get away with it but not him.

 

            Now the meat of the issue that Grimmjow faced, would people still pay to play with a battered body? Of course, if they didn't know it was battered. Looks were only so much, performance was the second half of selling yourself. This was all very stressful and aggravating to try and plan for. Mindlessly, Grimmjow wrapped a hand around the length between his legs and started stroking himself, undoubtedly still seeking some diversion and comfort as he stared away from the mirror. He didn't like extensively considering the consequences his appearance would bring. Firmly he ran his closed hand over the proud length between his thighs. Having coaxed himself into a semi-hard erection each stroke up his length ushered an eager stream of precum from his tip after not too long. This meticulous, slow massaging felt sensational. He closed his eyes, distant from his problems. He was no longer a physical body, solely a mass of feeling - pulsating and levitating in the air. Then, a shifting image of orange appeared in his mind, the orange framed face felt as though it was casting a smile his way. Grimmjow's breathing switched from soft panting to calm, normal breaths. He found himself leaning over heavier against the sink, lightheaded, beginning to get dizzy. The blur of Ichigo had dissolved as his recovering body threatened to lose consciousness and collapse. He knew he needed to stop...how unfair...

 

            With frustrated eyes Grimmjow stared dead on into the mirror again. Unable to even jack-off to calm his nerves, what kind of a man was he? Embarrassed...he was _really_ fucking embarrassed; this temporary inability was going to haunt him and thankfully there wasn't anybody but himself to notice. If only that orange blur would rematerialize behind him, embrace him... Ichigo wouldn't be scared of his appearance, would he? The troubled exotic man sighed, muttering to his reflection as he leaned harder on the sink for better support, "If I could just hold ya right now..."

 

            He'd actually broken a big unspoken rule when he’d indulged with Ichigo. Don't get attached to your hook-up. Other people and clients were supposed to be obsessed with him, not the other way around. A few vivid details in his memories started to surface. Speeding down the highway, the gas station, the old barn. Emotions accompanied the memories. Grimmjow knew he’d put himself in deep. He doubled over the sink, shaking. Just for a night he wanted to get away; just look at what that one reckless night had cost him. He specifically remembered being backed up against the wall in the loft of that run-down barn while Ichigo held him up. The sublime feelings he’d had at that point… Grimmjow slammed a fist against the sink. "DAMNIT!" He'd tasted the difference between being 'fucked' and 'making love', and that difference was very desirable intimacy. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Grimmjow knew that he faced hard choices, decisions he sensed he would soon have to make about how his life was going to continue. He was afraid to admit that he wanted an intimate relationship with Ichigo. Working at the club would definitely get in the way of that, he just knew it would. He was fortunate that this hadn’t tripped his heartrate monitor’s alert function.

 

            Grimmjow moved his fingers out of a fist to ensure that none were broken. Impressively, the sink had cracked a little. He needed to get out of here, out of this damn hospital. He didn't belong here now that he was awake. He had to leave. Grimmjow rushed out into the main room, before going anywhere he should see who had sent these gifts, those people might be willing to help and they might include Ichigo.

 

            Grimmjow searched through each decorative bag to see what had been left and who they were from. He found no markings but there were so many sweet treats. _So_ many; candies, small cakes, individual fruit pastries. This had to be from someone at the club, but none of the dancers were _that_ incredibly fond of him. Actually most of the other dancers showed contempt because Grimmjow was known to distract their clients. It wasn't ever intentional, he was just a favorite pick because he was so attractive.

 

            He'd run out of bags to rummage through. Surrounded by all the packaged treats and small stuffed animals he realized something...they all had a blue theme. Literally, each and every little decoration and animal was colored cyan, sky blue, turquoise, deep sea blue, blueberry blue, and cerulean. Guessing it was a tribute to his trademark hair color and his nickname at the club, Grimmjow was pretty certain that they hadn't been sent to the wrong room. Next Grimmjow stared up at the basket of flowers with a blue ribbon on it. That was the only thing left now. Still nude, and quite comfortable he took it off of the ledge and sat cross-legged on the bed to hold it on his lap. There were three groups of vivid wild flowers in separate vases which he took out one by one and set side by side on the table by his bed.

 

            Uncovering a pile of things in the bottom of the huge basket Grimmjow's heart leapt upon sight of a plain colored card. "'Missing You'," He read from its front in swirling type. Fuck! That was definitely Ichigo! He opened the card to read it. "'All of these for you my sweet Skiy. I shall arrive and take you home once you awaken. Szayel has promised me excess time with you for my generous donations and care. So don't be late.'" It was signed 'A.S.' in fancy scrawled cursive. Grimmjow’s heart sank really low. It wasn't from Ichigo. ‘Skiy’ was Grimmjow's stage name, Ichigo only called him by his real name. Other than that, the signature at the bottom was wrong; those were the initials of that brunette he'd been fucking for so long, a benefactor of his by now. 'Aizen, Sosuke'...he hated that man with a passion, but Azien paid _so much_ more than any other client he’d ever worked with. Aizen had come across as charming at first, probably an attempt to win Grimmjow's affections except for fact that those didn't matter. Affections didn't get in the way of whether Grimm slept with someone, though he had to admit the first night with Aizen wasn't an all a bad experience. It was just that as time went on that Aizen became more comfortable with the idea of using Grimmjow to test his sexual fantasies; ones which were uncomfortable and only became more and more disgusting. Still…the money.

 

            Grimmjow tore the card up and threw it down. ‘Don't be late’ his ass...what the fuck did that mean anyway? The basket was filled with many containers of sparkly lip gloss, a vibrator with blue leopard spots on it, bottles of flavored lubricant, and a heart shaped sticky-note under it all. No wonder that pervert would leave him an innocent gift like flowers, just to cover these up. Grimmjow wasn't repulsed by the chosen gifts so much as the giver; he did use this stuff regularly...well maybe not the vibrator. He had enough real cocks up his ass. 'A few things a boy should never be without,' the note read. "Sick fuck..."

 

~

 

            Grimmjow had packed all of the gifts back into their bags and the basket so that when Isane arrived in a little while with a tray full of food he was peacefully sitting on the platform in front of the room’s open windows. Nothing seemed to have moved in the room except the patient.

 

            Isane crept in the door and let it close gently. She carried the tray over to the platform and scooted it close to Grimmjow with her eyes politely averted.

 

            Why did he have to sit there in the buff like that? Simple reason, because he could and it was comfortable. Looking at her Grimmjow drew amusement from the nurse's obvious shyness. "Don't tell me ya never seen a naked man before."

 

            Isane, pretending to be staring out the window and put her hands on her hips. "Of course I have!"

 

            "Really?"

 

            She crossed her arms, face flushed.

 

            "Say, if ya get me some _real_ clothes I'll wear 'em instead of wanderin' around naked."

 

            "Well your old clothes were thrown away... We had to cut them up to get them off of you and I’m not sure if we have anything besides hospital scrubs and gowns to spare."

 

            "No gowns please… Where's my wallet?"

 

            "Doctor Kurosaki left it up on the shelf over your bed."

 

            As Grimmjow casually turned around to move off of the ledge and get his wallet Isane squeaked nervously and covered her eyes. Grimmjow swiped the wallet from beside the lonely vase on the shelf which he'd forgotten about. The rose, sadly, was beginning to droop. Moving back to the flustered nurse he folded open the wallet and rifled through its contents. Every card was still in there but no cash.

 

            "You're going to send me on an errand aren't you..?" Isane guessed with some wary hesitance.

 

            "I need ya to do me a big favor," Slowly, gently, he took hold of her arms and moved her hands from her eyes. "I need ya to not go tellin' the doc about this."

 

            " _This?_ What, Mister Jaegerjaquez?"

 

            "First I need clothes. Then I need ya to help me get a car, a motorcycle, or something to drive."

 

            "You shouldn't be driving in your condition! You're still recovering from surgery and-"

 

            "I have to. Please. I can't tell ya why but I just hafta get somewhere."

 

            The long silver haired nurse paused. He was very desperate, so maybe this was some secret noble mission, but regardless his eyes said that he was going to try leaving with or without her help. It would be better if she helped him, even if it risked her job, then she could ensure his safety because she would be close by until he got wherever he was going.

 

            “I really need to see someone.”

 

            ‘Someone’? That was a little more specific. This man’s eyes looked guilt-ridden all of the sudden. Was someone he knew in trouble or something else the matter?

 

            “Please,” Grimmjow said again.

 

            Isane’s resolve that this was a bad idea was starting to crumble because of this man’s eyes and words honestly expressing urgency. Helping people was her job after all…even if this was extremely unorthodox and very risky. After agreeing, "I will but I will be driving you and you have to do one thing for me!" she asked one thing in return.

 

            "Anything!"

 

            "Eat something!" She pointed at the tray, stacked high with fruits, cereal, and juice boxes expectantly. It would be a pity to waste so much, and he needed food to keep his energy up. By now he should be able to keep down solid food.

 

            The cerulean haired man replied with a nod, "Deal." The first thing he noticed were strawberries, piled up in a bowl, glowing their succulent red. He could smell them, their sweet scent, even from further away. ‘Never too far to find ya, Ichigo.’


	18. Apology Hime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: n/a

**Chapter Eighteen**

_“_ _Apology Hime”_

 

 

_[Three days later...Thursday...]_

            The phone at the Kurosaki residence rang twice before someone finally decided to snatch it up and answer it. Seeing as Yuzu and Karin had gone with a friend after school and Isshin was still at work, Ichigo found himself the unfortunate candidate to screen calls made to the house. "Hello?" Ichigo talked into the receiver.

 

            "Kurosaki-kun! That's you, isn't it?"

 

            Orihime had called him at home _again_ this week... The pervious time he’d ignored the phone. Maybe it would have been better had he let the call go to the answering machine again, but now he was already into is so Ichigo replied back hesitantly, "Hi Inoue, yes it's me."

 

            "Oh good! I know I said hello to you at school today but I wanted to call and say hello again. Did you know that your cell phone says it isn't in service?"

 

            "I haven't used that thing in a year or two Inoue." His voice hinted of irritation.

 

            "Oopsie. I'm sorry, I think you reminded me about that last time. I guess I forgot." She giggled at her 'mistake', but Ichigo probably knew better. She could be ditzy from time to time, but never _that_ ditzy. Orihime was just worried. "Are you doing well, Kurosaki-kun?"

 

            Ichigo answered quickly, "Just fine." Then moved, with the phone still against his ear, around the kitchen gathering the food he'd been cutting up: crisp red lettuce, sliced mango and tangerines with some blueberries. "Why?"

 

            "Oh...well you seemed so...what's the word...? Umm...so spacey at school. I thought you might be feeling ill."

 

            "I'm not sick."

 

            "Well that's good!" She paused and waited expectantly for Ichigo to remark back. When he didn't Orihime tried another topic. "It was lucky that we were released early today, huh?"

 

            Ichigo didn't make a comment and started dropping his food into a big plastic bowl to toss the fresh ingredients, mixing them together. Why did she feel the need to subject him to this most days of the week? One sided questioning wasn't his idea of a good conversation, and couldn't she tell he wasn't in the talking sort of mood?

 

            "Kurosaki-kun?" Orihime urged, but when there was only a sigh in response she knew it was up to her to keep the 'conversation' going, "You've been so distant from us ever since you came back to school with all of those injuries. You won't join us for lunch anymore and you're always in the library studying by yourself or absent. I know I can't speak for the others but I can't help thinking that this was our own fault...is that true?"

 

            "I don't know, would your friends laughing in your face discourage you from hanging out with them?" Ichigo mumbled in a rather grumbly voice.

 

            "Well...I guess it would." There was a tone indicating shame in her voice now. Ichigo made an intentional sigh directly into the phone and Orihime responded by finally stuttering out the real reason she'd called, "I-I want to apologize, in person if I could. That's the reason why I called...I'd figured your reasons for avoiding us were something to do with when you tried to tell us about that guy...after Abarai-kun got upset... Could you meet me at the park behind our school so we can talk?"

 

            Ichigo thought for a moment, staring down at his fruit salad. If he said ‘yes’ he'd have to post-pone his snack, but if he said ‘no’...well... Didn't everyone deserve a second chance, even if it was a hard thing to give? As tough as it was to forgive someone for laughing in his face, and it felt all the worse reliving it in his memory, Ichigo knew it was the right thing to do. "Sure. I'll meet you there." Orihime was, after all, the first friend of his to try apologizing. That demanded some respect, even if what she'd done initially by laughing stung his pride. Besides that…substituting an apology so he could snack would be pretty pathetic.

 

            "Oh thank you Kurosaki-kun! I'll go straight to the park and wait for you by the trees, ok?"

 

            "I'll be there soon." He droned, now leaning over the telephone console. He hung up as soon as he heard her side of the line drop. Oh boy, what had he just agreed to...?

 

            Today, all years at his high school had been released early on account of a building inspection - not a typical thing - but instead of horsing around in his spare time Ichigo had planned to spend the rest of his morning making up for missed schoolwork while nibbling on his salad - guess that wasn't going to happen yet. Ichigo took the bowl of fruit and lettuce to a counter beside the stove and set it down before reaching up to an overhead cupboard. If he was going to wait to have his snack he should keep it fresh for later. The plasticware was all the way on the top shelf, darn things were hard to reach. He strained, stretching his arm up to the overhead shelf and eventually after feeling around his fingertips brushed against a square container. He caught its edge and drug it down from its lofty hiding place, without checking to see if the plastic box had anything else in it. Several smaller containers launched themselves from inside the larger container and after attacking Ichigo, hitting him on the head and elsewhere, clattered across the kitchen floor. One even decided to cushion its fall with the salad on the counter, landing in the bowl.

 

            There were few sounds that Ichigo could chalk up to being as disconcerting as the crashing sound of dishes on the floor, one was the sound of little children crying, another was gunfire - a rather recent addition to that list. The young man shook his apparent surprise after the plasticware's result of freefalling fell silent; he was almost crushing the rim of the larger plastic container now, having clung especially tightly to it. Darn it, if he were anyone else, anyone just a little bit taller than himself maybe he would've seen that coming. Someone tall...tall with light blue hair...six feet from head to toe and eyes the color of a clear sky. If Grimmjow could see that look of surprise on his face after all those plastic containers fell on him he'd probably laugh... Ichigo had to shake the thought from his head before it could take on an upsetting form...daydreaming didn't bring people back from the dead.

 

            Ichigo restacked all of the extra plastic containers and set them back up on the shelf by way of a chair this time; he'd learned his lesson. Pushing the stack of plastic dishes to one side, while Ichigo was at eye-level with the shelf, he caught sight of something set in the far back of the cupboard. In the dismal corner, coated in a layer of dust, was a lavender colored china cup on a matching plate. Small twisting patterns of engraved gold lined the rim of the cup and the edges of the plate. Delicate flowers, the shade of deep purple, danced neatly around the body of the cup. He reached for the set and carefully pulled them forward. Just as carefully, he wiped the dust from the surface of the cup with his sleeve and admired its shine, what beautiful china. He was a bit puzzled as to why something this nice was in _his_ home, they didn't buy dishes like this. Upon lifting the plate to clean it off he found a clue as to these dish set’s owner. A small picture was taped to the underside of the plate. A woman's face, with long wavy hair, was smiling and cheek to cheek with a younger looking version of his father. "Mom..." Ichigo mumbled looking over the familiar faces. It had been years since her accident...everyone in the family missed her so much. She was a shining, smiling figure to each and every one of them. As Ichigo carefully set the china cup and plate back in the corner he recalled the day of her funeral...his father had never appeared sterner than the moments a young Ichigo had observed him watching as four men carefully lowered his mother's casket into the deep dirt pit in the cemetery. Shortly after, the sky had begun to pour rain and while Ichigo waited with his baby sisters in the car, Isshin stood outside in the grim downpour. There was so much water, his father could have been crying and no one would have noticed, but Ichigo knew better than to be fooled by the rain. Who wouldn't cry at such a sad event? All of them had at some point. His father was the last one to leave the grave, and the little orange haired fellow - as he grew into a young man - would never forget that day with a flooding rain and so many sad faces.

 

            Ichigo located the matching lid to his plastic container then climbed down from the chair and closed the cupboard door, trying to redirect his thoughts to meeting Orihime at the park. It was difficult to think about that now. Ichigo felt as though his world was gradually eroding beneath him. Bits and parts which had once made the ground so sturdy and supporting were being softened and washed away. He had felt his feet sinking at first with his mother's passing, then he'd lost Grimmjow, and now his once tightly packed friends were straining at the seams they shared after treating him like an overly imaginative fool. This whole drifting apart thing saddened Ichigo more than enraged him but continuing to be a mope wasn't something he wanted for himself. It would lead him nowhere. Ichigo determined that while talking with Orihime he would respectfully listen to her apology and hope it could cheer him up since she was such a nice girl. If during their talk she changed her mind about believing his story from three months ago it would have to be by her own doing, he wasn't going to beg her to believe him but it would be nice to hear an apology at least.

 

~

 

            Fifteen minutes later Ichigo pulled his car into the open student parking lot of his high school, there were a few other cars also parked in the lot but not many. He wondered if the school’s inspection was over, heaven knew how long it would take or what they were inspecting the school for. The young man twisted the key back and his Mazda's engine switched off. Then he unbuckled himself and slipped his wallet into his jacket pocket. This jacket was wonderful, fluffy but thick. He would have worn a thick long-sleeved shirt, preferably the one he'd had on earlier, but unfortunately while putting his fruit salad away he'd gotten a few purple stains on its light-colored sleeves and the several other long-sleeved ones he owned were in the laundry room waiting to be washed. They badly needed a good wash so it wasn't an option to wear one. He'd just run up to his closet and picked out a t-shirt instead and pulled on this jacket. Simple enough solution.

 

            Ichigo was out of his car, after locking the door, and walking across the concrete lot to the side of the school. As he walked, crushing crinkling autumn leaves under foot as they swirled on a chilly breeze, Ichigo tried his best to avoid moving slowly and lingering; he wasn't about to run to get to the park but it was against campus rules for students to be at the school during this time of the day without permission. Not to mention if the inspection team was still around here they probably wouldn't take too kindly to a student's presence. Ichigo kept a brisk pace, moving around the side of the building. The tall structure cast a long shadow and this shadow certainly made him feel more assured that he wasn't likely to be seen by any adults.

 

            Just past the indoor gymnasium and coming around a corner to slip past some ground-floor classrooms, Ichigo couldn't help but look in through the windows as he passed one room…two rooms…three- In the third room the young man caught sight of a few adults gathered in a doorway. None of them noticed Ichigo stroll by but something about them felt wrong. They wore suits and ties...not like a teacher's outfit, more like a board member’s or people of importance. Moving on and continuing through the school yard Ichigo decided to let all suspicious ideas go. After all, an inspection of the school grounds shouldn't personally affect him, he had nothing suspicious stored in there, and if it affected the school in general he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. They were probably after someone selling drugs or alcohol-

 

            "Hey you! With the orange hair!"

 

            Having just stepped onto the edge of the school's track, a good distance from the actual building, Ichigo's head whirled to see a suited man running toward him and shouting. Oh shit... Ichigo was abruptly faced with a dilemma, and he had a split second to decide what he was going to do. From this distance the man wouldn't have recognized his face and that fence up ahead...the twelve-foot-tall fence, covered in creeping ivy, that separated the park from the school grounds wouldn't be easy to see through or climb. As if this old guy could out run him though... Ichigo turned on a dime and broke into a fast sprint across the track without yelling anything back.

 

            "Hey you! Stop, I want to talk to you! I TOLD YOU TO STOP!" The dogging voice behind him bellowed.

 

            Ichigo paid the man's words little mind as he tried desperately to build up more speed. He'd already crossed over the actual track and was bolting across the grassy patch in the middle to the other side. The voice continued to shout at him, once or twice he'd considered just stopping and facing the man but it hardly seemed worth it now that he'd attempted escape. In a matter of a minute Ichigo had gained some ground on his pursuer and went bounding across the far side of the track; from here to the fence there were rough patches of dirt and wobbly rocks that he would have to run over. It was hard not to twist an ankle or slip on the stones but moving slower wasn't an option.

 

            As Ichigo reached the tall fence a ghost of his past experiences revisited him… Running for his life with Grimmjow through the apple and corn fields, running away from the attack dogs... There were no rabid mongrels at his heels this time but the same desperate need to escape had manifested in his mind. Sticking his fingers into the ivy Ichigo found proper holds where the twisted metal of the fence formed diamond shapes. Refusing to allow himself to look back he started the climb. Several times his footing failed, the thick ivy only made that worse, and the fence swayed slightly under his weight once he was at the top. The man charging after him had caught up by now, all things considered Ichigo had climbed twelve feet pretty fast but this guy in pursuit was just too damn determined. The suited man had caught up with him at the fence. What the hell kind of a psycho screams at someone to 'stop' and expects them to actually take orders as they're being chased down? Ichigo felt the fence rattling more as the dark skinned male's hands grabbed it.

 

            "Stop you! Such insolence, climb back down immediately! I demand to speak with you!" the man snapped, shaking the metal fence all the more.

 

            Ichigo had one leg over the top and wasn't about to take orders from a stranger. He felt himself and the fence quivering and tried to keep his face averted as the man hopped up and began his climb. Realizing he couldn't have this guy chasing him through the park Ichigo paused. Despite being a faster sprinter, Ichigo was a lousy fighter, he acknowledged that but what could _he_ do? If he wasn't strong he'd have to be clever...a subconscious suggestion of sorts rose up to his conscious mind; what would Grimmjow have done?

 

            The dark-skinned fellow wasn't likely to have known just what hit him an instant later, but it was Ichigo's heel coming down just as the man reached up for the teenager's ankle. "AAGH!" the male cried as his sunglasses cracked and he fell from the fence.

 

            Well that seemed like a cheap-shot...but this guy was probably a creep anyway. That swift thinking would have made Grimm proud... Ichigo didn't wait for his pursuer's recovery, the young man swung his second leg over and jumped from the fence and fell onto a hill with an upward grade. The impact was a great strain on his ankles after his feet hit the grassy ground but in a matter of seconds he was standing back up and fleeing from the fence. He never looked back, it would be stupid to look back now. In his mind there formed the image of beady red eyes, glowing and peering through the fence after him; shifting images of the dogs' reflective eyes watching him and Grimmjow after they'd tumbled into that cabbage patch... Needless to say, this chase had been more exhilarating than terrifying, there was less at stake, but Ichigo treated it the same as a life or death situation. He couldn't be caught...he just couldn't, because if he didn't succeed in escaping he would be dead. Ichigo was prone to taking instances like escape very seriously from now on.

 

            The orange haired young man scrambled up that grassy hill to take refuge in the colorful trees around the border of the park. There he sidestepped behind one to peek back at the fence and catch his breath. He was more than a hundred feet from the towering barrier. If that man had made it over to his side there was nowhere close for that suited guy to have hidden in time. There was no sign of that guy. Ichigo had a gut feeling that was home-free. Shaking from fright and the exertion of running away, he dreaded the thought of having to climb the fence again to get back to his car. While Ichigo stood by the tree trembling slightly, something snuck up behind him, raised its hand and tapped Ichigo's shoulder. In an instant his stomach was in his throat and the young man whirled and plastered his back to the tree, ready to grab at any attacking limbs that should come at him.

 

            "Kurosaki-kun! Is everything alright?" a very startled Orihime cooed.

 

            Ichigo closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly to calm his thundering heart and churning stomach, which growled back at him. Ichigo blushed and placed a hand over his gut. "I guess I'm a little hungry..."

 

            Orihime giggled, "You're out of breath too. Did you run all the way here?"

 

            "Yea..." Ichigo smiled slightly and looked around them. Only a group of younger boys with their skateboards at the park were eyeballing them, staring with odd looks was more like it. He rather hated to be stared at, more than likely they'd seen him clamor over the fence. If he were Renji he would have made an absurd face to frighten them off, but it wasn't like Ichigo to be so immature. He ignored the boys and took one look behind himself at the fence again. Upon seeing no one there he pushed off of the tree and took steps toward the children's play area. The imagined sight of red eyes still peering through the thick ivy and searching for him plagued his mind.

 

            Orihime stayed beside Ichigo, not questioning his somewhat frazzled state, even though he appeared very much shaken up by something. Well now she figured would be a good time to break the ice, "I want you to know that I wasn't trying to tease you... I should have considered your feelings before I allowed myself to laugh..."

 

            Right into it then! Ichigo remained silent, brought back to the real purpose for this trip by Orihime's words.

 

            "I've never heard anyone talk about someone else the way that you did before...at least not in real life... A ‘tall graceful dancer’ with ‘sky-blue hair and eyes’ and a very ‘confident personality’. He seemed like someone from a dream you had."

 

            Now she was just quoting him, but Ichigo forced himself to continue listening. ‘Give her a chance...’ he kept reminding himself.

 

            "It all sounded so much like you'd been tricked into believing some fairytale."

 

            Arriving at the swing-set on the playground Ichigo snagged a swing and sat down on it. Wasn't Orihime supposed to be apologizing...rather than reinstating the reason that he was upset with them?

 

            The long-haired young girl followed him and took up the swing next to Ichigo. She held onto the chains, tapping the toes of her shoes against the ground while she watched him stare down at the woodchips.

 

            Ichigo chewed on his lower lip and started to swing back and forth slightly, rocking on his feet to move himself. He could feel Orihime observing him, it was uncomfortable especially when he wasn't willing to speak, but if she wasn't going to stop reiterating what had already been said from before he wasn't going to open his mouth.

 

            "A-Anyway, I'm sorry for giggling...it wasn't fair of me to laugh. You're such a good friend to me, Kurosaki-kun, and I don't want that to change." Inoue smiled, continuing her attempt to coax him from silence, "You know...Abarai-kun wasn't trying to be mean either...he was just jealous when he said that he thought you were a liar..." She continued after a small breath, "When Ishida, Chad, and myself asked him where you were after school and during breaks that day he skulked off without a word. He was very jealous."

 

            Renji had done that? Ichigo faced his long-haired friend; Inoue had a slightly sad look in her eyes, she meant what she'd said. "That was after I mentioned _him_ , right?"

 

            "Yes, and Abarai-kun just hasn't been the same since then. He's always been a little strange ever since you two stopped hanging out like you used to though, but never this upset. I think he believes you've replaced him with a new best friend."

 

            "Hmmf. He always was thick headed like that. I didn't replace him, I just outgrew his fussing and lazy attitude." Truth be told that was only a slight part of what had separated Renji and him…but Orihime, Chad, and Ishida didn't know that Ichigo and Renji had been _dating_. "Don't ask me to go begging his forgiveness for confusing him."

 

            Orihime shook her head avidly, "Oh I wouldn't, if anyone should apologize it should be Abarai-kun. He seems to only act coldly when we mention you... I just thought you should know how he's been feeling because he doesn’t hate you. He’s just jealous."

 

            Maybe Renji _was_ experiencing some jealousy, the idea wasn't farfetched. They’d had a lengthy relationship in their earlier years of high school but it wasn't a relationship that was built to last. Ichigo felt it was more of a fling from the start, but Renji thought differently. To Renji their relationship was romantic and shouldn't be hidden, but no matter the effort he put into convincing Ichigo to just be outright about his sexuality the orange haired teenager stubbornly refused to give up his secret. It was a losing battle. Back then, after Ichigo's ego rose a bit and his confidence got a little better, and he’d tried talking to Renji about him topping during sex instead of Renji always being on top. By this request their close connection took a nose-dive into the muck. Renji flat-out refused. Clearly each young man wanted something the other didn't particularly want to give. Those were the big picture reasons that had broken them up and sent the two of them drifting far apart. The realization that he'd finally forced Renji to completely snap after telling him about Grimmjow was now plain as day, and now Ichigo felt...he didn’t know how exactly but it wasn’t good. That romanticized explanation of another man to Renji's ears had more than likely sounded more like bragging up his new 'catch'. Ichigo's neck drooped with an icky feeling weighing him down. He felt guilt ridden yet bitter; why couldn't Renji just suck it up? He'd found someone new. It had been a long time since he and Renji were intimate so why couldn't that stupid spiky haired jerk let it be?! Just this one time...why couldn't Renji just let him go...? Ichigo’s body felt like lead on the gently rocking swing. "Do you think he'd speak to me if I ever wanted to talk things out?"

 

            "I don't know, I think you'll have to talk with Abarai-kun to find out I think."

 

            "Renji sure can be a hard person to understand... He wants to express how he feels when he's upset but he doesn't do a very good job of it." Ichigo added with a sigh.

 

            "For the past few months he's been ignoring everything to do with you. All one of us has to do is say your name and he goes off on his own."

 

            Ichigo sighed and straddled the swing so he could face Inoue without having to turn every time he wanted to note her expression, "I accept your apology, Inoue. It makes me feel better knowing you like having me as a friend enough to apologize. Think we could talk about something else now? Thinking about Renji is starting to make me depressed again."

 

            "Sure!"

 

~

 

            A few hours passed and as their conversation finally came to a close Ichigo found himself unable to help confessing his true sexuality. It was too much keeping it bottled up. He was worried about it being an obvious ‘secret’ and without Grimmjow around he needed someone to talk about it with.

 

            Already standing up beside Ichigo, a stunned Orihime clasped a hand over her mouth. Lowering it, only after Ichigo looked up with a crooked smile and a shrug, she spoke, "Oh wow... If you two were dating...hmm...this makes so much sense why Abarai-kun was so upset! He must have been even more jealous if he loved you."

 

            "I guess he loved me… After we’d first split Renji knew I starting hanging out with another guy who wasn’t the blue haired one, but knowing about Nnoitora didn't upset Renji. It makes me wonder why he'd be so jealous now about a different guy."

 

            "Wait...that isn’t the same person that you described?" Orihime appeared slightly confused.

 

            "I've never talked to any of you guys, except Renji, about Nnoitora. The one I described with blue hair and eyes is Grimmjow."

 

            "Hmm..." Orihime tucked her hands into the fluffy cotton pockets in her coat. "Well...you know the way that you described Grimmjow was really, really nice. It made me think of a prince or something. So maybe Nnoitora wasn't as nice sounding to Renji as Grimmjow and Renji thought he had unbeatable competition."

 

            "You mean that Nnoitora didn't sound like a threat to Renji, but Grimmjow did? And it’s not like Renji is part of the competition anymore, I’m not going back to him."

 

            "Renji probably doesn’t realize that he’s out forever then. You should tell him plainly how you feel… But yes! Exactly! Grimmjow sounds like your ideal prince, and Nnoitora probably didn’t. I'm no good with words like that." Orihime rubbed the back of her head and laughed nervously. "I didn't want to say it wrong...but this makes a little more sense to me now, knowing that you love Grimmjow that must have been why you described him so well."

 

            "Woah, woah...I didn't say that I _loved_ him..." ‘Did I?’ Ichigo could feel his nervous self begin to drip sweat.

 

            "But you really like him, huh?"

 

            "Sure I do. He's a good guy."

 

            "He seems less like 'good' and more like 'perfect'." Orihime chuckled and glanced at the sun casting its long orange rays across the sky. "I'm glad we got to talk. I have to go back home and start dinner, thawing meat takes a while. If you'd like to come with me I'd be happy to cook for you!" she chirped.

 

            Ichigo smiled apologetically, "Sorry I have some schoolwork to finish and dinner waiting at home. Yuzu gets sad when I don’t come home for dinner."

 

            As the long-haired young girl walked backward across the park, waving goodbye to Ichigo, he remembered something that she'd told him just before giving him a hug and setting out to go home… Orihime had mentioned that she wanted to meet Ichigo's mysterious 'perfect' man. The young man had agreed, not wanting to disappoint his faithful friend, but he hadn't told her about their accident... Grimmjow might be dead, then she would never get to meet him. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and Ichigo found himself trying to swallow it over and over again without success. Once Orihime was out of sight Ichigo was left alone on his swing. He shivered at his solitude in the evening’s cold breath of wind. Couldn't there be a less painful way to continue living life?

 

            After Ichigo had been made the brunt of something that wasn't meant to be a joke, and hoped for someone who believed that he was telling the truth, irony mounted itself on the fact that the person who probably believed Ichigo's tale most strongly was Renji. Renji...that poor love-stricken fool... Ichigo knew right well that the primal desire to have an attractive partner had driven him into several failing relationships. First he'd lusted toward Renji, then Nnoitora, and finally Grimmjow... Was he still thinking only in terms of his lust, with a carnal need to feel the exotic man’s body again, while he hoped that Grimmjow would return to him someday? These darn thoughts were going to ruin the rest of the evening and any chance he had at finishing his schoolwork, but little could Ichigo realize that soon he would have far more serious problems to fight off in the ominous future.


	19. Symbiosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: some warm fuzzies and…sexsexsexsexsex  
> Secondary disclaimers:  
> 'Slow Dancing in a Burning Room' is a song by John Mayer. I do not own this song nor do I make profit by mentioning it.

**Chapter Nineteen**

_“_ _Symbiosis”_

 

 

_[Later that same Thursday evening...]_

_"Have you figured it out yet?"_

_"Figured what out?"_

_A sweet giggle followed the question, "Your insides. Do you know what your insides are yet?"_

_"Dumb way to ask a question..." he replied without a real answer._

_Another person's black hair floated over his shoulders as arms draped around them, "Fine then, let me ask in another way. What is inside of you...if this exterior is so tough?"_

_"Why should I hafta say it?" he challenged._

_"I want to hear it straight from your lips, country boy."_

_"Ya just enjoy makin' a softy outta me, huh?" Two faces brushed gently against each other and then thin black lips kissed his forehead._

 

 

 

            With a gasp Grimmjow lurched upright, startled. _'What the fuck?!'_ Oh, thank god he was dreaming...

 

            Isane flinched and retracted her hand. Perhaps waking him so suddenly had been a poor idea. "You fell asleep while we were driving Mister Jaegerjaquez, but we've arrived, this is the address on the paper. Are you _certain_ that this is where you need to be?"

 

            With the unsettling dream fading into the back of his mind Grimmjow calmed himself, staring out a window of the car on the passenger's side with a hand supporting his head's weight. Outside of the car stood a short decorative brick wall encircling a yard, a metal gate, another brick wall but much taller next to the house, and trees with their dramatically varying autumn colored leaves hanging over this yard's front walk. The black metal gate before the front walk was open, swaying slightly because of the wind, as though awaiting a traveler's return.

 

            "Mister Jaegerjaquez?"

 

            Grimmjow closed his eyes for a long second then turned his head to look at the silvery haired woman. "Sorry... What was that ya said?"

 

            "We've arrived is all. This is where the note you found told us to go."

 

            "Right..." Grimmjow looked back to the yard and the house on the property.

 

            "Is this where your family lives?" the kindly nurse guessed, craning her head a bit to try and read the cerulean haired man's expression.

 

            "Somethin' like that..." Grimmjow managed with his stare still thoughtful. Somewhere where someone he cared about lived... What would it have been like to live in a house like this as a young man?

 

~

 

            After his talk with Orihime earlier in the evening things seemed less glum for Ichigo, but he still wished that he had someone he could discuss every secret of that terrifying night with. Just one person to confide in about that terrible, horrible...awful... _wonderful_ night... Ichigo set aside a plate from the accumulative pile of dishes which he was washing in the kitchen sink. It was so terrible how those men had hunted them, drug him away and undoubtedly left Grimmjow in _the worst_ shape of his life. Yet...yet he was having such a _wonderful_ time before all of the terrorizing discoveries surfaced. Recalling, Ichigo sighed and his lips formed an odd smile as he picked up the next dish and dunked it in sudsy water. If that had been an official date it was the most exhilarating one that he'd ever been on. Sadly it had come at such a heavy price. Ichigo felt some small tears welling up in the corners of both eyes and rubbed at them using his wrists. It was a that memory he was fond of yet at the same time it was one he wished he would forget.

 

            While trying to rub his eyes dry and wash a little soap he'd gotten on his face off, Ichigo was startled when the doorbell's grating sound echoed in the house. _'Dangit...'_ Hearing the hollow tone the young man set down his dry dishrag and stared warily in the direction of his home's front door. The door was in the next room, which he was thankful for; he wasn't interested in being interrupted or seen. If the person outside really needed to talk to someone they'd leave a note or come back later. Ichigo could just linger in the kitchen and wait for them to go away...but wait...what if it was one of his little sisters? Yuzu or Karin shouldn't have to sit out on the front step of their own house; also not something that their father would smile about. With no morally correct escape available, Ichigo groaned and rolling his eyes wiped his hands clean of sudsy dish water. Seems like he didn't have much of a choice in this matter if he wanted to be fair.

 

            The latch of the front door dropped and the orange haired young man tugged it open. "Yuz-" he began falling dead silent a second later, mouth helplessly agape. A powerful gust of biting fall air rushed past him, whisking fallen leaves into the house. Ichigo remained spellbound as the wind blew in cool air and the door's handle hit the adjacent wall. He stared at a traveler... A tall man, dressed in black combat boots with the straps loosened, dark faded grey jeans ripped at the knees, a long sleeved white v-neck, and half a head of wispy cerulean hair floating over one side of his face stood before him confidently like a wind-blown god with his hands jammed into his pockets. He swore that it was a ghost, "Grimm...jow...?" the teenager croaked softly.

 

            "Ya expectin' someone else?" Vivid blue eyes observed Ichigo's as the hazel orbs widened in shock. "Sorry about not callin'. Didn't have your number."

 

            Ichigo felt his body swelling with so much confusing emotion. In retaliation he swung a fist. "Don't even tease me! DON'T!"

 

            With ease the exotic man blocked and held onto the poorly formed fist. "Ya _that_ upset with me for not callin' to tell ya I was alright, huh?"

 

            The younger man whimpered, "After that night I just thought-" promptly bursting into tears just after his sentence faltered. Ichigo was tugged closer, to meet a solid chest, and embraced by strong arms. "I thought they'd really killed you..! You were bleeding so much and they just left you there...and drove away..!" He sobbed helplessly against the white material, a complete blubbering mess now. Understandably so…

 

            Grimmjow gently coursed his fingers through Ichigo's hair, trying to sum up something to say while the teenager soaked the front of his shirt with tears. When nothing came to mind he contented himself to bury his nose in Ichigo's tangerine colored hair and just let the kid have a good cry. Such a becalming scent touched him, "Ya know, ya still smell like strawberries... It's somethin' I missed."

 

            Unintentionally overlooking Grimmjow's small-talk the young man sniffled out an apology against Grimmjow's chest, "I'm sorry! I tried fighting them off but I can't handle that many people... I couldn't get to you to help..."

 

            Ichigo's fighting abilities, as seen in the past, were a bit piss-poor to say the least but this wasn't the time to be critiquing his fighting. "Don't worry about it, kid." Grimmjow just relished the peace he felt holding Ichigo so tightly to comfort him. "What's with all the waterworks? I thought you'd be happy to see me," a touch of sarcasm hung in his soothing, deeper voice.

 

            "Stop teasing...I can't freaking help it..." Ichigo forced himself to stifle his tears for a moment and clutched at the front of the white shirt as though it might tear itself away sometime soon. "I hoped that I would get to see you again...alive...and now you're back from being dead. Anyone who was me would cry too..." Warm tears rolled over his cheeks as he raised himself up on tip-toes. Leaning into his companion Ichigo raised his face and gifted the exotic man the kiss of a lifetime.

 

            Passionate lips forced up against his and the taller man had to lean a bit himself to greet them. Grimmjow's hands clung to the slighter young man’s waist and gradually his eyes fell closed while returning the extremely amorous gesture. These lips were silken, and as Ichigo's tongue moved across his it was so soothing. He felt so warm. Their exchange of passion made his every sensory nerve prickle. With acceptance of this display of affection Grimmjow really shattered the usually unspoken boundary rules of his trade. No one was here to enforce these and Grimmjow felt he wouldn't care even if someone had been. Ichigo was worth risks. This young man was the sole person on this entire planet who could fulfill a certain forgotten desire that had been long abandoned in the farthest depths of his heart. Allowing himself an immersive moment had never felt so rewarding before, consequences and rules could just wait their fuckin' turn. Their kiss intensified, warm mouths clashed, soft tongues played with each other. Hands touched and clung...

 

            Some minutes later, Ichigo was the first to slowly take his lips away. Grimmjow was alive and he felt so…full... Just filled to the brim with something truly good. Whatever that was it relieved him. Both of his eyes closed in contented bliss and Ichigo rested his forehead against Grimmjow's shaven chin, arms wrapped around the second body securely and tight.

 

            "Ya know, you're kinda crushin' my ribs. I'm not goin' anywhere so why the tight hold?"

 

            "Bullets and knives, you survived all of that. What's the big deal about a sore rib?"

 

            Grimmjow chuckled at the clever refute. "That didn't answer my question though..." Enthusiastically he urged Ichigo to walk backward into the house and then closed the front door with a swift swipe of his foot. "But, ya do make a good point..." The exotic man forced Ichigo up against the nearest wall and trapped him there, pinning Ichigo’s arms up.

 

            Ichigo made the most approving of sounds while Grimmjow leaned in and began to pleasure his neck. It was all he could do being restrained like this.

 

            Grimmjow knew where to place his lips along that neck to keep Ichigo engaged. That warm skin...and Ichigo's scent...the obscene sounds he made... It was all very encouraging to him too to keep doing what he was doing.

 

            Ichigo swallowed to refresh his voice, letting the back of his skull rest on the wall while the mouth against him moved. "What've you been doing all this time?"

 

            "Kid, right now I don't think I can keep off ya long enough to tell ya. We'll talk later, eh?"

 

            "I'll be upset if you forget," Ichigo warned.

 

            "Oh I won't," Grimmjow assured. "I hope you're the only one here."

 

            "Don't worry, my sisters are at a friend's and my father is at work." Ichigo would be lying if he said that he wasn't grateful that there was no one milling around to interrupt them.

 

            "Good..." Grimmjow barely managed that breathy word before their lips were crushing together again. Heaven only knew how they both made it upstairs to Ichigo's bedroom all over each other, and with half of their clothes pulled off. Grimmjow's shirt had been tossed over the back of one of the living room couches that they went by. Both guys’ shoes and socks were kicked off while going up the stairs, and then at the top of the flight Ichigo's t-shirt was left, snagged on the railing.

 

            For a short time being Ichigo took over control and forced Grimmjow up against his closed bedroom door with a ‘thunk’. They still kissed fervently with heated desire as Ichigo fumbled for the door knob. As the door came open Grimmjow nearly toppled backward, though Ichigo made a saving snatch and kept him upright. The bedroom that the aroused pair stumbled into was dimly lit.

 

            Grimmjow's fingers pined at his companion's jeans to get their front undone. "...damnit...get these off already..." he mumbled against Ichigo's mouth.

 

            The young man really couldn't physically resist when Grimmjow ushered him to the edge of his work desk. Ichigo's hands swept backward to keep himself from tipping awkwardly and in his carelessness he knocked over a whole stack of his make-up schoolwork from the numerous days he'd missed. He didn’t care.

 

            Papers scattered _everywhere_ but Grimmjow was absolutely resolute in keeping the young man’s focus when he thought Ichigo's attention might wander to the mess. With a little assistance Grimmjow got Ichigo's zipper down and tugged the pants low around his companion's thighs. Without warning Grimmjow broke from the heated kissing and caught Ichigo under his butt and pulled him onto the edge of the desk.

 

            Ichigo _hated_ to be pushed around, he had a prominent controlling urge, but he would tolerate this for now because he was so goddamn horny. Grimmjow was just being a _little_ pushy anyway. Cooperatively Ichigo followed the direction of his companion’s guiding hands and remained sitting on the edge of the desk with his legs apart. He felt his briefs being tugged down as low as his pants, which had slid past his thighs by now. The chill from open air he sensed on his nether regions made him shiver.

 

            Grimmjow knelt at Ichigo's dangling feet; with a gentle grip on the second body's legs he kissed in a line up Ichigo's abdomen while his hands first squeezed Ichigo's knees then snapped the elastic band of the briefs. "Ya know, ya really need a different pair of these frickin' things."

 

            "Ow... Exactly what's wrong with these?"

 

            "These're boring...and they're hardly worthy," Grimmjow reached his long fingers between Ichigo's thighs and picked up the sensitive erection there, "...of spendin' so much time cuddled up to your junk. I think I'm a little jealous." The exotic man drug his long wet tongue from the underside by the base to the glans and Ichigo's size increased a bit. Grimmjow grinned when Ichigo shivered from that. His hand carefully closed around the hardening length and he started to stroke the stiffening shaft.

 

            Ichigo's breath hitched, "You're a cock-tease..."

 

            "I try my best." Grimmjow's devious grin widened as he carried on stroking Ichigo's growing erection. "If ya prefer I use lube ya better get it out."

 

            "Nah, not just for jerking me off..." Ichigo thoughtfully massaged the exotic man’s scalp while his manhood was being tended to. Grimmjow appeared to especially enjoy his hair being played with; he would have to remember that for later. "Umm, Grimm?"

 

            "Mmm, yea?"

 

            Previously, when Grimmjow had been on top, Ichigo had taken one _hell_ of a pounding. He wanted to avoid that this time, _not_ because it felt lousy but tomorrow he had a few tests to sit through and P.E.... "Do you think I could just top you this time?" The young man felt asking to be an obligation. _'Please say 'yes'...I don't want to argue.'_

 

            Grimmjow continued to do a ridiculously good job of appearing pleased no matter what Ichigo threw at him. This one felt like a softball to the face. He knew that he was a rough top; maybe he’d been too rough with Ichigo who was copious amounts of fun to fuck, and had so much stamina, _and_ was really cute…but Grimmjow could tell by the tone of voice Ichigo used that the young man probably didn't share the exact same appreciation of being ravaged. Being a switch, Grimm was a bit disappointed but otherwise he’d be fine coming to terms with the request. Although, this being asked how he felt business was an unusual element...

 

            "Grimm?"

 

            The cerulean haired man snapped out of a thoughtful trance. "Sorry, I don't mind bottomin' for ya. It's just kinda weird gettin' used to my opinion matterin'...or at least I hope I'm not wrong in assumin' that..."

 

            "I care about how you feel when we do it, so of course your opinion matters, dork. I'm not the sort of guy who wants to abuse you-" Suddenly Ichigo wished he could have taken back those words.

 

            The exotic man narrowed his eyes and one of his eyebrows bent down in question. What a weird thing for Ichigo to say... What a true fact actually, but one that he hadn't ever disclosed. "'Abuses me'? Ya think I'd tolerate some jerk abusin’ me in the slightest?" Grimmjow was lucky to be convincing with his talk.

 

 _'Dangit!'_ How completely slipshod to mention something like that. "Well...uh..." fortunately Ichigo's countering words formed rather quickly into a comforting response. "N-No," he chuckled nervously. "No...actually...you'd probably feed someone their balls for _that_." Lord forbid Grimm ever figured out what this was alluding to.

 

            "Damn straight." It was pathetic how they tried to fool each other; it really was, but the truth would be washed out sometime. "Let's talk about why ya want me on bottom..."

 

            A subject change! Ichigo jumped at that. Other than not wanting a sore ass, Grimmjow was a pretty sensational fuck... Now how to phrase that? "Well...you're pretty much built for fucking. I don't know if this makes _any_ sense but your body compels me. Once I'm in I don't feel like I could ever stop before I was finished several times over."

 

            Grimmjow's hand had already worked up to Ichigo's cock’s tip and back down to the reasonably thick base enough times to make the member drool. Listening to the praise was a little distracting. "Mmm, and what else?" he craved more...more praise…all of the sultry words that he could usher out of Ichigo like this.

 

            The fingers coursing through the cerulean strands grew more insistent as his body temperature rose steadily. "The way you tightened around me when I would thrust in... You drained the cum from my balls...but I just wanted even more. I swear I could have fucked you for hours, literally." Leaning down the orange haired young man spoke seductively into his companion's ear, "Not to mention you're so flexible...I'd imagine I could screw you in any position I wanted..."

 

            "Mmm...keep talkin' to me, babe." Smirking from the wicked words, Grimm refused to touch the painful tension in his own pants as it grew, but the pent-up hardness continued to nag him incessantly. Unwilling to let anymore of his lust waste idly away in words, Grimmjow found something tangy and hot to devour to occupy his lustful state.

 

            The young man with another going down on him groaned as his dick was taken into the warm mouth past soft lips. A moist tongue curled around his girth, lips were sliding over his glans and shaft. The oral treatment was wonderful and relentless. "I'll have to punish you if you make me cum too quickly," Ichigo taunted, running both hands through Grimmjow's long hair and across the fuzzy shaven half. The stitching on his companion's scalp was noticeable but Ichigo chose not to mention it in the heat of the moment.

 

            With his devoted disposition and lips around Ichigo's girth Grimmjow purred at the lewd suggestion.

 

            Something in Ichigo's head did some kind of a flip or spun around as a strong pulse from the incredible suction and wetness shot along his cock’s nerves and tingled through his balls. _'Dangit, he wants me to punish him, doesn't he..?'_ "Nnnn... Grimm, seriously if you don't slow down I am _not_ going to be able to help myself." When curious blue eyes traveled up to meet his Ichigo flushed vividly, effectively embarrassed. What intense eyes...

 

            The exotic man’s lecherous gaze remained fixed on Ichigo's hazel eyes as he swallowed the tip of Ichigo's weeping dick. Swallowing the rounded head, and what he could of the shaft, brought a raunchy sense of delight as it was going into his throat. Grimmjow relished the unclean or perverse side of going down on his bedmates. Their surprised and pleased expressions...their musk...the feel of bulging veins on the members he sucked... Grimmjow felt his own cock pulse once, very strongly. Ichigo’s purely flustered expression became even sexier as the blush that the young man wore brightened and he whimpered softly about the intense pleasure no doubt. To say the least, Ichigo was really cute when he was _this_ embarrassed.

 

            "Nnn!" Ichigo felt the blood in his cock rolling as Grimmjow switched from swallowing to vehemently sucking. Oh this was almost too much! "Mmm! Grimm, don't let me cum yet...!" he ordered. A blowjob was one thing, knowing that it was his cerulean haired god between his legs knocked that sensation several levels higher. What was it about Grimmjow that made sex so much more intense?! Renji had sucked his cock many times before, and he did it well, but even Renji with a skilled tongue still, all of his patterned tattoos covering his body, long crimson tresses, and fiercely attractive eyes wasn't the best. Renji was sexy...but Grimmjow was smoking hot. Ichigo groaned and made the excruciating effort to continue his stream of thought to help resist his building urge while he enjoyed the sensation of being vehemently sucked off. Supposedly Renji's dick was the ideal pleasurable size, it had felt alright when they'd had sex. Grimmjow's fricking dong needed its own zip code...that thing was ridiculous...and yet if he had to choose between being fucked by one of them Ichigo could whole-heartily admit that Renji wasn't his first pick. Even as rough as Grimmjow could be. As another option even Nnoitora, who was always thoughtful enough to be gentle, wouldn't have been his choice. Ichigo's thoughts fell to his pulsating dick for an instant as a strong sensation shot up the shaft; Grimmjow had a hand under his balls. "Nnnuuuh...your mouth's so warm...I almost came damnit." Some part of Ichigo wanted to puff out a frustrated sigh because he was flustered and almost couldn't handle this expert sense of pace that Grimmjow had because it was edging on overwhelming. _'Is there anything he doesn't know how to do?!'_   Was there anything Grimm wouldn't do...? That question bothered Ichigo a little so he let it go immediately.

 

            For nearly ten minutes Grimmjow kept Ichigo from cumming with tedious, pleasurable treatment of the young man’s pulsating member. It wept appreciatively with streams of delicious fluids; the exotic man couldn't help drooling over the sultry taste. He had no clue that Ichigo's mind was twisting with questions, he probably wouldn’t have minded though. Pre-ejaculate and saliva dripped down from his active mouth as he faithfully continued to fastly suck. Damn this was good, but hadn't the poor guy waited long enough for reprieve? Grimmjow slowed, gently pulling down on his partner's sack with fingers at certain placements and careful pressure around the orbs inside. The reaction to that was instantaneous.

 

            All at once a rush of broiling blood coursed through his heavy cock and balls and Ichigo's climax shut down all train of thought for its duration. "Fu~uck..." His mind went blank, and sparks shot in front of his eyes. Hot sensation filled his balls and venous shaft as they released into Grimmjow’s mouth.

 

            Anticipating and eagerly Grimmjow held the glans of his companion’s member in his mouth and worked his damn best at swallowing when the bulging erection jerked several times to discharge a swell of thick fluids into his mouth. Sweat....he could taste sultry sweat mixed in. His soft lips pressed around the girth of Ichigo's shaft just below the glans and the amount of semen he couldn't swallow dripped from his lips. The smell, taste, and texture made his own unattended erection really hot and restless. Thin trails of the two companions' fluids were strung from Ichigo's tip to the exotic man’s tongue and mouth as Grimmjow withdrew from the member when it had stopped gushing. "What happened with that low stamina? Ya feelin' ok?" he teased, dragging his tongue up the underside of Ichigo's cock to keep it slick and get more of the salty tasting cum.

 

            The hands stroking the cerulean haired man’s locks of hair removed themselves as the euphoric high began to settle. "I wish I could describe exactly what being around you does to me..."

 

            What kind of an answer was that supposed to be? A 'sorry I have no clue' or something else deep and thoughtful? Grimmjow stared up at Ichigo's dazed face, still holding the barely softening dick close to his lips. Seemed like Ichigo got a bit philosophical when he was a mixture of horny and satisfied. " _That_ difficult, huh?" Details would have been appreciated...

 

            "It's _impossible_ to answer when you look me in the eye like that..." Ichigo huffed.

 

            "Ya don't like it when I look up at ya?" Grimmjow questioned coyly, licking his lips and kissing the glans of Ichigo's cock. He could still taste the semen there and feel some of the gooey texture. The meaning behind a subtle grin, which Ichigo was now trying to hide, didn't elude Grimm. "Aaah...ya can't sneak your feelin's past me with _that_ grin, kid. Ya read like a book...and ya do like it, but you're shy..." He was really trying to test Ichigo's nerve. Grimmjow rose from his position on the floor and placed his hands flat on the desk, one on each side of Ichigo's hips. "Do ya get chills having me look up when I give ya head?" The young man’s grin worsened as Grimmjow brushed his lips against the shell of Ichigo's ear. "Does it make your cock ache? Hmm?" Then he drew back enough to gaze into Ichigo’s eyes; there seemed no escape.

 

            One would figure it was easier handling Grimmjow's captivating stare when there wasn't a cock in his mouth...one would be wrong assuming that.

 

            Now this next occurrence was cute, Ichigo had gone and covered up his face with his hands. Gently Grimmjow pulled down the hands and Ichigo's eyes cracked open. The tip of Grimmjow's pointed nose brushed Ichigo's, "Gimmie a kiss, shy boy..." There was a second or two of hesitance before the young man pressed forward to oblige him.

 

            Somehow Ichigo managed to keep his half-lidded eyes at least part-way open as their lips and tongues moved against each other. He could taste himself, but he didn't mind. "I feel like a lucky guy being with you," Ichigo mentioned as he felt Grimmjow breaking off from the kiss.

 

            Smiling Grimmjow took one step back from the desk. "What's luck have to with- nnnnn...!" he winced as his erection pulsed headily, merciless in reminding him that it still needed attention.

 

            "Geeze, are you alright?"

 

            Trying to recover his pleased rather than pained composure, Grimmjow ventured to the single window in the bedroom. "Yea, I'm fine." He just needed to be touched. He drew the curtains closed with a careful yank.

 

            Ichigo took this open opportunity to breathe on his own for a minute. "It's not going down..." he groaned noticing that his erection was solid again.

 

            Grimmjow was now beside the bedroom doorway. "Still hard?" That was surprising considering how much fluid he'd swallowed and how satisfied Ichigo had seemed.

 

            "Mhm, it would seem so," Ichigo purred running his fingers affectionately over the thick curve between his legs. Now that he thought about it his dick was pretty good looking...like Grimm's but just not as fucking huge as that. Ichigo didn’t know how to admit that they were close in size. He looked curiously over at Grimmjow. "What're you doing over there?"

 

            Grimmjow slipped a flat black device from his jeans' pocket and tossed it to Ichigo. "Heads up."

 

            In a moment of raised alertness Ichigo caught the object, but barely. "You shouldn't throw things like this," he said while examining it, "you'll crack its screen."

 

            "The screen's already cracked. It works fine," Grimmjow pointed out, casually leaning one shoulder against the wall where he was, a bit off from Ichigo.

 

            Well its screen was, in one place, cracked off on the edge like a spider's web. "I asked what you were up to over there," the younger reinforced, unwilling to let his question go unanswered.

 

            "I thought of somethin' fun. Now c'mon, switch it on, pick a song. Any one ya want." One of Ichigo's eyebrows went up. "Quit eye fuckin' me, just do it." That was the exotic man’s not so subtle way of informing Ichigo that he was in no mood to wait.

 

            Grimmjow's insistence probably had something to do with him having doubled over a second ago if the cause wasn't pain from a wound or something; they were both very obviously horny. Now that he thought about it they'd done nothing for Grimmjow’s definite arousal yet. That was probably it. Ichigo shrugged then turned the thin box a few different ways to find the flat power button. Flicking up and down the screen Ichigo searched the list. "I know a few of these artists but does it really not matter which song I choose...?"

 

            "Nope." He flicked off the light switch that he had posted himself beside. Outside it was completely dark, the sun had disappeared from the sky until tomorrow. Only a faint glow from the open door and a crack in the curtains that let in moonlight could light the bedroom. Grimmjow loved to have darkness encase him while he had sex; it made the environment enveloping and carefree. He felt relaxed in its abyss and there was only the warmth from other bodies to comfort him. They became all there was. Just physical and sensual pleasures… The exotic man, masked by a dark shadow, glided silently over to his preoccupied companion.

 

            Ichigo felt a pleasantly warm body slip behind him. "You sure you're ok? You seem pretty anxious."

 

            "My dick's screamin' at me." Grimmjow silently gestured to one song already on the screen.

 

            Ichigo read the title, 'Slow Dancing in a Burning Room', and gently touched his finger to select it. A slow beat began to rise from the device. Melodious sounds of a strong bass thrummed and the music was smooth. It permeated through the room.

 

            Grimmjow lifted the device from Ichigo's hand and set it face down on the desk so its glow wouldn't spoil the dark atmosphere and rested his jaw on the young man’s shoulder. He swayed in-time with Ichigo and the music, slipping under the influence of the slow rhythm. "I'm not sure if a slow dance is your style..."

 

            Ichigo finished Grimmjow's thought for him, "It is now..." He accepted the hands with spread fingers beginning to roam his body. When the man's voice in the song arose, this particular tune seemed familiar. This was... "Grimmjow," Ichigo murmured as the song's vocals continued with sweet lines of carefully pronounced words, "I know this song from somewhere..." ...something he'd heard before.

 

            The cerulean haired man wasn't about to make the answer obvious. His hands came down to Ichigo's hips and found the edges of his companion's pants and briefs. What good had it done to pull those up again? Slipping both thumbs underneath he dropped both garments to the floor.

 

            Ichigo couldn't contain a sly smile - playful and sweet. His blue haired dancer was seducing him all over again, and Ichigo was enjoying the playfulness of it. He stepped out of his clothes and brushed them aside with the swipe of a foot, then he faced his companion, allowing Grimmjow to manipulate one of his hands.

 

            Holding onto that hand Grimmjow brought it to the excessive bulge between his legs.

 

            When Ichigo’s fingers traced along the bulging curve his thoughts muttered, _'Wow...'_ "You know, you could have touched yourself while sucking me off... It's not like I'd reprimand you for that."

 

            Grimmjow waited while Ichigo unzipped his fly and began tugging down the coarse shredded jeans. "I cum _so_ much harder if I wait until we actually fuck." After the jeans were down there was nothing to hide a tight leather thong. It was colored an opaque midnight blue with two leather straps crisscrossing and wrapping around Grimmjow's hips. In the near darkness its features were just barely visible.

 

            Ichigo grinned feverishly as his fingertips caressed the smooth bulging ridge covered by leather. Massive like he'd remembered it.

 

            "Like that?" Grimmjow teased, pushing his jeans aside with a foot.

 

            "Mmm, I do...no wonder you're anxious..." The material could have been part of Grimmjow’s flesh, it was perfectly skin tight. "I bet you're _aching_ for this off, hmm?"

 

            "I'm wa~ay past aching..." Grimm was losing himself to carnal lust. Suddenly Ichigo's lips brushed his. Grimmjow flinched.

 

            It became quite clear in that rare awkward moment that Grimmjow wasn't expecting to be kissed right now, but why wouldn't they kiss while touching each other? It hadn't startled him before. That oddly timed display of surprise forged a question, "A prostitute wouldn't kiss a client, would they?"

 

            Fuck, he'd definitely been caught off guard. "Not on the lips, no. It's considered unnecessary intimate contact. You're not my client though I hope ya realize..." He was eager to shut down reminders of work. Fortunately Ichigo didn't nag him about it. The exotic man bowed his neck and rested his cheek against Ichigo's. Perhaps the general population assumed no sexual or affectionate act was sacred to a prostitute. That idea was false by him, very false. "I didn't mean to shy away like that. It's just dark, couldn't see ya very well."

 

            "It's alright." The idea of Grimmjow kissing anyone other than himself left an unsettling feeling inside of him. Grimm’s hands moved to cup at Ichigo’s bare balls. Skilled hands...damn them...were massaging the sensitive sack. Still ignoring himself Grimmjow was driving Ichigo's senses nuts. "Grimm, you're driving me insane. Let me fuck you..." There was no response. Was Grimmjow even listening? The treatment made every last nerve in Ichigo's lower body tighten. "Hands off. Let me fuck you...seriously..."

 

            Seemingly oblivious Grimmjow sucked on a sweet spot of sensitive flesh under Ichigo's ear. He could hear clearly, but for whatever reason he didn't seem to care. The frustrated young man faced his back to Grimm, pulling away from the lips, like a pouting child. Strong enough to do what he liked by force alone, Grimmjow caught Ichigo by the hips and pulled him back closely. "Testy as hell..." Grimm’s roaming hands resumed their travel.

 

            The leather bulge behind Ichigo fit nicely into the groove between both of his ass-cheeks, drawing up a ravenous craving for skin against skin contact. He moved fingertips along the thong's straps, how the hell would he get that off? Cut it? Probably not. Ichigo felt vibrations from Grimmjow chuckling against his neck. At that point he realized that his companion was just playing seductive games. Ichigo took a firm grip on one of Grimmjow's wrists.

 

            The exotic man was reasonably surprised when he felt Ichigo twist from his grasp then pull _his_ arm, by the wrist, behind _his_ back and force him over the desk. Very assertive...very assertive indeed... The blue haired man smirked over his shoulder. "Have I been bad or somethin'?"

 

            "Shut up." Those seductive blue irises in the dim light were meant to instigate further, and so they did. A chill charged up Ichigo's spine seeing Grimmjow staring back at him in that hopelessly inviting manner. "Cut that out..."

 

            "I don't think I will." Grimmjow maintained the challenging gaze, "What're ya gonna do about it to make me stop?" Grimmjow was about to say more but in the dim light he caught Ichigo's agitated stare change; he stayed silent wondering what was wrong all of the sudden.

 

            Ichigo's hazel eyes drifted upward from Grimm’s sculpted ass and examined one side of the dancer's back to the other, as though he were reading the pages in a book. It took a moment or two to swallow what dim light from his doorway clarified. The six long scars here...they were _huge_. "Oh God..." Ichigo muttered, slowly releasing Grimmjow's arm and spreading his hands over the marks. What terrible scars. Grimmjow must have suffered a lot from these. A dimming hue of blue in Grimmjow's eyes hinted that he was worried about Ichigo noticing the scars. Grimmjow had lived through _that_ brutal of an attack...how? Ichigo brought himself out of the moment of horror and amazement...

 

            Feeling a wrenching sensation in his stomach, his blue eyes grew dark out of fear, the fear of rejection…repulsion. His trademark smirk had totally vanished from his lips. "Scary, huh?" Grimmjow's solemn voice broke the silence.

 

            Ichigo knew that his staring had caused a problem. He hadn’t mean to, whoops. It was just that...no words seemed appropriate for this horror. The marks…they were very scary. Denying that to Grimm's face would be brazen and rude.

 

            Grimmjow took a deep breath, unsure of how to explain further. "Sorry, I guess those are kind of a turn off..."

 

            "I'm just glad you're alive," Ichigo interjected before Grimmjow could say anymore. The young man kissed along each scar mark, even the higher ones which he had to stand on the fronts of his feet to reach.

 

 _'No way...'_ "They don't bother ya?"

 

            "They make me wish I could have stopped those thugs from hurting you..." Ichigo answered indirectly before coaxing Grimmjow to lean farther over the desk. In turn Ichigo too bent over and embraced his companion while his hardness nestled between Grimm’s sculpted ass-cheeks, arousal not forgotten. One of Ichigo's hands snaked down to that still constrained bulge between Grimmjow's legs and cupped it. Gently squeezing it once he caused the man to groan heartily. "Let's ignore the scars...just focus on what I'm doing to you," Ichigo whispered in the exotic man’s ear as he felt along Grimmjow's hips until he found the small metal buckles on the double straps of the thong. A way to get this thing off without cutting it!

 

            Grimmjow felt a smile cross his lips as he stared down at the surface of the desk waiting for Ichigo the strip him of that last bit of his clothing. Intimacy...acceptance... Ichigo was just adding to an already impressive list. Grimmjow felt straps on both his sides come loose; his cock shoved away the leather to jut strait out and bumped the desk. Ichigo began stroking the enormous member right away, wrapping a hand around and going at a terribly slow pace. "Mmmm.. Damn...it..." The cerulean haired man abandoned his perpetual worries for the moment.

 

 _'He's acting rather starved...'_ Ichigo's fingers, slippery with the precum he was milking from the man, set themselves on Grimmjow's toned ass and parted the cheeks, rubbing his shaft and fingers between them against the other's asshole. _'Has he had sex at all in the last three months?'_

 

            The missed feeling made the sexually transfixed man shudder, he couldn't even speak.

 

            Ichigo could take a hint and didn't try to make conversation, pushing one finger slowly inward. His cerulean god _definitely_ had not been penetrated for a _long_ while; this was way too tight to suggest anything else. Once Ichigo had three fingers fitting comfortably inside that very tight hole, he stretched Grimm for a minute or so and then withdrew them. They were replaced by his dick's nudging glans. Ichigo spread the hole just enough to start fitting it in. "I'm not going to use lube, alright?" Ichigo couldn't wait to find out just how tight it was but he wasn't going to be too reckless without some consent.

 

            "Sure, kid." A not so coherent Grimmjow didn't really consider what he was getting himself into by allowing that. In years he hadn't gone more than a week at a time without having sex, maybe once and a while it was two weeks so he could get away with not using lube all of the time. However, a whole month let alone three changed the game. Going in Ichigo's cock wasn't dry but even though it was a bit slick with cum and some spit there was still enough resistance to be felt. "Nnuuhh..." Grimmjow's fingers curled in and made fists as his forearms and chest lay flat on the desk and Ichigo held his ass up. Despite the fact that penetration stung a bit, his manhood drooled heavily because of the missed sensation.

 

            Even Ichigo was feeling the pressure though, he wasn't in more than two inches and this was beginning to threaten to chafe him. So there was such a thing as 'too tight'. A desk drawer beside the pair slid open and Ichigo took a bottle from it then slid it closed, his hiding spot for his lubricant and toys... "No lube was a bad idea...ow..."

 

            "Fuck...now ya tell me..." Grimmjow groaned. 'Torture' wasn't the word to describe it but it felt an awful lot like the first time he'd ever tried catching instead of pitching. As Ichigo withdrew the exotic man considered clawing pits in the wooden desk. It took a few moments for Ichigo to lube himself and Grimmjow but Grimm spent them appreciating how much easier the lubed fingers slipped around inside of him, prepping. When Ichigo replaced them with his cock again and carefully began to press inward the man gave a long groan, "Uuuuhhh...!" He kept his legs apart to help his companion get started. At only an inch or two further than before Grimmjow shuddered involuntarily. It felt so good to have a thick member in him again but this was just mildly embarrassing; he felt like a virgin all over again.

 

            The first time Grimmjow tensed Ichigo wanted to slam into him but didn't; the constriction had filled him with a strong urge which he could narrowly control and restrain. Maybe going a little slower would help? For the next few inches Ichigo forced himself to take his time, but moving slow was torture... Once he finally hit his base Grimmjow was gasping out soft profanities beneath him. "Do you want me to stop?"

 

            "No, just hurry up..! Mmmm! Not gonna tell ya again..." Grimmjow barked from his lower position. "Fuck me already...!"

 

            Fully able to hear that request, the young man withdrew to his head and slid back in again, a little faster this time. Ichigo felt that familiar and loved rushing of a silk-like texture around his dick as he sunk in and pulled out repeatedly. So good... Grimmjow felt _so_ fucking good...

 

            The exotic man grunted once and panted as Ichigo settled fully inside of him over and over. "Damn that stings a bit... C'mon, like ya fuckin' mean it! Some friction to chase the pain away..."

 

            Upon request their fucking became more determined and Ichigo had to stand up straighter to achieve a satisfying pace and angle for himself and his exotic companion. "Dang...this feels...mmmm!...even better....than the first time...mmmm!...we did it...nnnn...!" One of Ichigo's hands found itself between Grimmjow's legs, grabbing hold of the huge bouncing erection there, jerking it in tandem.

 

            Grimmjow would've taken care of himself but he seemed a little busy digging his nails into the desk's surface, backing against the thrusts with good timing, and squeezing firmly around the member at key moments. These weren't conscious efforts, he was just really, really enjoying being fucked for the first time in three months and his sexual instincts that made him so sensational as a bottom in bed were diehard. "Fuck...ahhh...uuuuhh! Harder...! Fuckin' hell...uuhh!" Pain assuaged, Grimmjow wasn't clawing at the wood because he hurt. Vigorous, merciless, melting hot friction was at his ass and it was making his whole body burn with lust. Every time that cock went into him it rubbed and stretched him just right; coupled with a vehement pace it made _so_ much pleasurable friction... Ichigo really wasn’t holding anything back. This pounding was divine.

 

            The younger man panted, clutching at his companion's hips, on which he had an extremely strong grip. Ichigo was enjoying this as much as Grimmjow; he’d missed the sex as much as the man he was fucking. Each withdrawal from the constricting warmth was still just as torturesome as Ichigo recalled from before. His body trembled with delight. His cock felt so good...so _damn_ good...he could do this for hours and hours if Grimmjow only lasted that long...

 

~

 

            Thirty minutes later Grimmjow was still over the desk with Ichigo fucking him silly, panting and begging the young man behind him to ceaselessly go harder and faster, when Ichigo heard the front door slam shut on the floor below them.

 

            Grimmjow couldn't care less until he felt the repercussions from Ichigo's surprise, rather a sudden thrust at a rather awkward angle. It suddenly stretched his asshole oddly and that hurt quite a bit. Groaning over the slight discomfort Grimmjow, without minding the distance he was from the desk, let his head drop and accidentally cracked his forehead against the desk with a loud 'thump'.

 

            Ichigo was stricken into silence and froze up while balls-deep in his companion. Had Grimmjow just…headbutted the desk? He bit his lip to keep from snickering any louder at the demonic growl of 'ouch' that followed Grimmjow whacking his head on the hardwood. The teenager leaned over, resting one hand on his breathless companion's back and caressing the skin. "Sorry Grimm," he whispered and was still making the strong effort not to laugh.

 

            The exotic man merely growled in response, forehead resting where it had hit.

 

            "Let's finish. Stay quiet."

 

            "Easy for ya to say..." Grimm felt Ichigo refocus and start to move faster again and it quickly became apparent that the exotic fellow really couldn't help moaning…

 

            "Just remember to be _quiet_." Ichigo kissed and sucked hungrily at Grimmjow's neck while he leaned over and assumed his former pace at pounding his cock into the man. Sliding his manhood in and out of the perfectly fitted and stretched hole, he was essentially helping Grimm slip back into their purely lusty mood.

 

 _'Fuck ya...smartass…'_ What was Ichigo thinking sucking on his neck like that when he was supposed to be quiet?! Grimmjow clenched his teeth. He could feel Ichigo's engorged cock pulse once or twice, close to cumming probably. Grimmjow was about there too; he could only drag this out for so long. Pressure from the fattened member pounding incessantly to reach the peak of pleasure stretched him even more.

 

            Ichigo groaned over Grimmjow, at his climax, and now spilling himself into his companion he enjoyed the extremely persuasive compulsion to continue fucking until he was spent.

 

            Grimmjow felt sharp forward bucks that pierced deep into himself and couldn't go for more than two minutes after Ichigo's climax without reaching his own peak. "Fu~uck..!" He spilled a lot of seed on the floor and splashed his own legs with the thick fluid as his mouth hung open while his sex-steeped mind went utterly blank.

 

            "Wow..." Ichigo whispered trying to breathe normally. "I hope no one heard you..." Pot…kettle.

 

            Someone was now too satisfied to care. Grimmjow groaned happily against the defiled desk’s surface. "I guarantee they did, now stop worryin'..." Grimmjow felt his companion completely withdraw and exhaled heavily as the head pulled out of his ass. Clear drops of shining liquid trailed from his ravaged hole and streamed down the backs of his legs, decorating their elegant length with the fruits of Ichigo's release, not to mention that plenty of the clear semen had splattered across his ass-cheeks. It was such a fitting canvas for cum-splatter painting. It felt inexplicably good to be fucked senseless like this. By now nearly all of Grimmjow's body weight rested on the piece of furniture underneath of him, from the waist down he was just weak, but was he really spent though..?

 

            Ichigo traced a finger along one stream of his cum running down the back of Grimmjow's thigh. He knelt down behind the weary dancer and drug his tongue along the stream of his seed until it reached the man’s sculpted butt and then kissed one of the cheeks. "Lay down on my bed if you're tired." Everything they said was in whispers by now.

 

            Grimmjow barely managed to get off of the desk by himself. Without griping he wandered over to Ichigo's bed if only to collapse on the soft mattress immediately. A relieved and satisfied sigh escaped him. He laid on his side horizontally against the softness with either of his legs half-hanging off of the bed.

 

            "It was _that_ good huh?"

 

            "Fuck yeah, and if ya give me a second I’ll be good for another round. It'll have to be on the bed though...I don't think I'll be able to stand back up for long enough."

 

            Ichigo was easily distracted from the suggestion by the device on the desk still playing music, he picked it up and switched it off. "You've lost it if you think no one will notice us making more noise up here. Besides that, my little sisters can't walk in on something like this...and my dad. He'd _kill_ you."

 

            Grimmjow reached over the side of the bed and picked up Ichigo's 'boring' briefs. "I understand the little sisters part but can't your old man just let ya dictate your own sex life?" He stretched the elastic band on the undergarment between his index fingers.

 

            "It’s not like that…not when you still live at home. Your parents still try to impose on everything you do, and he doesn't even know I'm into guys yet..." Ichigo said, crouching beside the bed. It was true, Isshin didn’t know that his son was gay. "That just makes things really impossible."

 

            Grimmjow took the pair of underwear and tried to put them over Ichigo's head before the young man snatched them away. "Sheesh. Someone finding out has really got ya that worked up..."

 

            "It's not just _someone_ , they're my family."

 

            The exotic man tried to take the underwear back playfully, but Ichigo wouldn't hand them over. "Well, genius, if someone finds our clothes on the steps ya might be personally introducin' me to them _tonight_ ," Grimmjow remarked with a smirk. "I guess I better shower first, huh? Wouldn’t wanna smell like ya just finished fucking me over your homework desk, that’d make it _too_ obvious."

 

            Ichigo's eyes widened, "Shit!" He began desperately searching the floor for his pants. Upon locating them Ichigo quickly tugged them on and stumbled toward his door.

 

            Amused at the panic he’d incited and watching from the bed, and fairly entertained by his companion's frantic measures, Grimmjow rolled his eyes as Ichigo disappeared from the room. The exotic man sighed and remained laying naked on the bed. Why did someone have to interrupt his peace of mind here? Sex with the right person was really pleasant and a lot of other things too.

 

            Ichigo came back carrying all of the clothing he'd found. "What happened to your shirt Grimm?" he spoke in a hushed tone, finding that Grimmjow had switched on a light and moved from the bed while he was gone and was flipping through a calendar hanging on a wall by the closet. There were pictures of muscle cars for each month, no wonder he was over there. "Hey gearhead."

 

            Grimmjow's neck turned his head, one brow raised. He could feel his legs shaking a little as they supported his weight. "'Gearhead'?" he scoffed.

 

            "That would be you. Where's your shirt?"

 

            "Back of the couch downstairs, I think."

 

            "Well I didn't see it." Grimmjow left the calendar and wandered over to Ichigo. When his companion's arms came around him the young man felt his body heat up several degrees. Instantly Ichigo separated himself from Grimmjow, "Oh no... _No_. We are not doing this while they’re home. If we get caught we'll have a life-sized problem."

 

            It made sense to be nervous about your parents finding you fucking some stranger in their house, but Ichigo was keeping some other important secrets…and they were getting in the way of what was a very sexy evening. Despite weak legs Grimmjow was unwilling to let him go, "...aaaw..." He grabbed Ichigo by the wrists and tugged him in.

 

            "Grimm, stop it. We'll get _caught_ ," Ichigo hissed and turned his head away.

 

            "Live a little," the exotic man remarked in a deep, seductive tone before turning Ichigo’s head and pressing their lips together. Ichigo retaliated with a bite. Instantly Grimmjow's head jerked back, "Feisty...but not discouraging…" Though his hands still hadn't let go of Ichigo's arms.

 

            Footsteps were moving around and had come upstairs, "Grimm, _please_. Just put your clothes on." Ichigo was begging, and nervously glancing at the bedroom door.

 

            Growling Grimmjow let go, but he didn't go to the clothing pile to get his things. Stance wobbling a bit the naked man walked straight toward the light switch and shut the lights off and then silently closed the bedroom door. Most of the light in the room faded out with that. "No open door, no noise outside your room. If we stay on the bed there won’t be much noise against the floor. Problem solved." By the darkness he took Ichigo by surprise from behind.

 

            "Let me go Grimm." This felt too risky to Ichigo.

 

            Someone definitely wasn't a good listener. "What's the matter, ya worried your pops is gonna walk in and see your cock up my ass?"

 

            "Yes. Now _stop_."

 

            "Actually I like a little danger. It wouldn't feel as good if there wasn't a risk involved would it? C'mon, get on the bed and fuck me until ya can’t feel your dick. Live on the edge...you'll like it out there." The young man was fuming mad. Turning the bright blushing red color of a beet Ichigo was trying to control his temper, not that Grimmjow could actually see this, but the exotic man was interested in teaching the younger about something... He was clever enough to try.

 

            Ichigo felt his pants drop all the way, leaving him fully naked and exposed as Grimmjow pushed him onto the mattress of his bed. "Stop!" Ichigo snapped as he was shoved belly up onto the mattress and then pinned there by his companion's weight climbing over him.

 

            The blue haired man hovered bare formed over the highly agitated other, who at this point was just laying there and glaring through the varied blackness. "How am I supposed to fuckin' sleep at night if ya can't fight someone off?"

 

            " _Please_ let me up Grimm." Ichigo said, gritting his teeth together.

 

            Reluctantly Grimmjow freed Ichigo's wrists only to set his forearms down on either side of Ichigo's head. The young man was still stuck against the mattress. "'Please' doesn't work on someone who doesn't care about your feelings." Gingerly he kissed Ichigo's forehead. "If ya don't learn to fight back you're gonna die, and if ya don't learn to take risks you're never gonna have lived in the first place."

 

            "This is a lousy sentimental mind trap to get me to have sex with you again tonight, Grimm. I take enough risks."

 

            Grimmjow caught hold of Ichigo's thin wrists again and held them both over the young man’s head with one strong hand. He reached down with the other to touch Ichigo's erection. He chuckled when Ichigo fruitlessly attempted to pull his wrists apart.

 

            Ichigo gritted his teeth, "You're delusional and horny. Now let me go."

 

            "Got that right, and so what? You're fuckin' riled up, that dick’s as hard as a steel pipe. I want _more_ and ya can't stop me from gettin' it." Grimmjow used his roaming hand to spread his own ass-cheeks. "Besides, causin’ trouble is fun."

 

            "It's stupid! And don't you dare."

 

            "You're too afraid. Well, lemmie tell ya..." Grimmjow teased by rubbing the telltale dripping head of Ichigo's cock against his previously ravaged and eagerly quivering asshole, "...gettin' caught, that's the fun part."

 

            "Don't you dare Grimmjow. I swear I'll never speak to you again- uuuh!"

 

            Without a damn given to Ichigo's threat Grimmjow shoved the stiff dick into his ass by dropping down on it and rested against Ichigo's base. He squeezed the length mindfully all the way down, with a flex of his butt’s muscles. With his mouth agape in silent amazement he could only shiver at the strong tingling that pricked its way up his spine. The pleasure brought a rolling sensation over all of his muscles as it reached even the tips of his fingertips.

 

            Ichigo was unable to help his back arching right away, it felt exceptional, but afterward the young man lay as still as he could stubbornly manage on purpose. He didn’t struggle to get free now. Hopelessly horny, Ichigo couldn’t bring himself to actually interrupt this yet. Grimmjow’s hips rose and fell with force repeatedly in the same squeezing motion over his manhood. Clenching the velvety and warm canal around his cock milked the pleasure out of him whether Ichigo wanted to give in or not. Amidst the pleasure the young man couldn't help feeling a little shame for purposefully _trying_ to be a dead fish while this felt so sensational; he was erect because he did want to fuck Grimmjow more but he was afraid that someone would walk in on them…

 

            "Aaaahh! Mmmm! NNNGGGHH!" Grimmjow was having a ball riding the speechless and stubborn young man’s raging, throbbing boner. "You're afraid...and you're _never_ gonna break my grip actin' all pouty."

 

            That comment struck a chord. "Ngh! I am _not that_ afraid!"

 

            "Uuuuhhh!" Grimmjow was guiding the dick pumping into him and maintaining his crushing grip on Ichigo's wrists all while barely being able to support his own weight. Damn his body was weaker than usual... If frustration was the key to Ichigo's strength he'd soon see.

 

            Suddenly Ichigo slammed his hips upward as hard as he could, "Get! Off!" he panted, repeating those 'painful' thrusts. “Right! Now!”

 

            They weren’t very painful, but they were extremely forceful against a rather good spot over and over. "MMMMM! Fuck..! Tell me the truth… Tell me how much ya wanna cum again."

 

            This was not working! Blushing furiously Ichigo's willpower was sparked far past determination by Grimmjow’s bad behavior and his need to assert that he wasn’t incapacitated by fear. He wasn't going to allow Grimmjow to fucking boss him around. Rather suddenly Ichigo ripped both wrists from Grimmjow's decently strong hold with a clever twist and tug. He grabbed either side of the surprised exotic man’s hips and held them down as he thrust up and impaled his impudent partner full force without being gentle in the slightest. Ichigo did it over and over, and each time it made Grimmjow scream with delight. If his dad heard them or walked in he'd deal with that afterward, first he'd teach Grimmjow a lesson about the pecking order between them!

 

            "AAAAAAAHH!" Grimmjow cried out at his second climax after a couple of minutes being banged harshly, a burst of thick semen shot from his cock without it ever being touched. The fluid splattered haphazardly over Ichigo's chest and on the bed's top sheets.

 

            Ichigo seized the opportunity and sprang up to tackle Grimmjow against the bed. Once Grimmjow's belly hit the mattress Ichigo mounted up behind him and got a solid grip on the exotic man’s hips. He hadn't cum from this yet so while he forced Grimmjow facedown against the mattress he might as well work toward that while he taught the man a lesson; Ichigo was pounding into the second body once again. “Damnit why are you so stubborn?!” Again, pot…kettle.

 

            ‘Victim’ to the pressure of his once again lower position, Grimmjow wasn't able to think or fight back, a little too tired from the first and second session but completely willing to accept the fervent pounding. "Ichigo...! Nnnaaah...fuckin' hell...nnuuuh!" The exotic man grabbed fistfuls of the bedsheets under him and came again as his erection rubbed hard against them on the mussed surface of the bed. Ichigo executed a final series of deep thrusts so well aimed that they made Grimmjow's spine prickle sharply and arch while his fists tightened around the sheets. Ichigo was rough with him for what he'd instigated and intended to use him for as long as the young man pleased as punishment it seemed. That was definitely ok with Grimmjow, only because of who it was. Eventually the angry young man climaxed, shooting his seed into the smoldering body below him for the second time, and eased his hard thrusts out of exhaustion. Grimmjow had felt the surge and bulge of the cock in him against his asshole and panted in euphoric pleasure, realizing by that and the pattern of hammering thrusts that Ichigo had cum again.

 

            Ichigo collapsed over Grimmjow, his cock slid out of the hole it had been abusing with the position change. They both lay together, gasping and dripping with sweat and other delicious bodily fluids. The room smelled entirely of sex, a mixture of both of their scents, which sadly would soon fade.

 

            Panting to regain much needed oxygen, Grimmjow smirked when Ichigo was eventually able to lift himself up to get comfortable. "...fightin's like sex. The harder ya go at it the better ya get." He nudged Ichigo's close shoulder with a loosely formed fist.

 

            "You tick me off so much sometimes... I've never been that frustrated before." Ichigo leaned on his right side and drug his fingertips over Grimmjow's softening cock affectionately. "How do you feel? I didn't hurt you too badly did I?"

 

            "Nah, ya didn't hurt me a damn bit. As for how I feel... Ya numbed me up pretty good, kid." He chuckled a bit over the whole incident, "Ya gonna kill me later for this?"

 

            What could he say? He just didn’t have words for that at the moment. Ichigo resettled sitting between Grimmjow's legs, dragging his fingers fondly over the man's toned thighs. He leaned down and began to lick the semen from Grimmjow's cock. The shapely, sculpted, muscular body spread before him...this body of Grimm's had to be one of the most sinfully enticing creations on the face of the earth. Irresistible. Sinfully compelling. Statuesque and easily an idol.

 

            The long strands of his cerulean hair sprawled out to one side of his head as Grimmjow relaxed. Amidst his pleasure the exotic man picked up on soft footsteps in the hallway with his hearing, they were getting farther away so he didn't try to rouse Ichigo who was licking him and hadn't noticed them yet. No need for concern at the moment. Eventually the young man crawled over top of him again and laid his chest against Grimmjow's.

 

            "I'm not really upset with you Grimm..." Ichigo laid a soft kiss in the crook of his partner's neck.

 

            "...but?" the blue haired man droned, sending vibrations from his deeper voice under Ichigo's lips at his neck, as though knowing that there might be more to what Ichigo said.

 

            That tickled! Ichigo drew back. "I wouldn’t kill you over this…but I'm serious about the fact that my father _would_." Ichigo laid flush against the chest below him and crossed his forearms to rest his head on them. "I’m so much younger than you, I guarantee it...he would be _very_ pissed off."

 

            Grimmjow took in a deep breath, strong enough to raise up his chest with the young man still on it. "Trouble is a good thing remember?"

 

            "No, trouble is something that obviously brings an aloof goof like you amusement and pleasure. To average people it's a flashing warning sign."

 

            "No clue."

 

            Ichigo growled, Grimmjow wasn't taking this seriously at all. "Ok Mister Clueless, let me remind you: typical people get a hotel room or go somewhere isolated so that they don’t have any risks because shit can go very sideways in a hurry. They avoid trouble."

 

            "I know, I know," Grimmjow insisted. "I'm just tryin' to get under your skin, but since when are we ‘typical’?"

 

            “Agh…” There were so many other _better_ ways to deal with this... "We'll have to find somewhere else to spend time with each other." Ichigo's cheek settled against Grimmjow’s chest and the young man fell silent.

 

            "Where?"

 

            That ominous question was left unanswered as they relaxed for a few more minutes before Ichigo got up and snuck out of his room to get a washcloth. Ichigo brought the warm, damp cloth back quickly, not closing the bedroom door behind himself this time. His cerulean haired entertainer was semi-lively again after only a few minutes of rest. Ichigo boggled at just how much energy that man had stored up in his body. Trying to wipe off some of the residual semen and sweat across his partner's skin was a pleasant task. At the slightest pleasurable touch from the warm cloth Grimmjow got it up _again_. "How the hell can you have another boner this soon?!" an astonished Ichigo remarked. The teenager laid the washcloth aside.

 

            "Kinda trained to..." Grimmjow remarked with a laugh as he got off of the bed and pulled up his jeans over the opaque blue thong.

 

            "I don't understand-"

 

            "Hey," Grimmjow hushed as he buttoned and zipped his jeans. Footsteps near the stairs were making creaking sounds out in the hallway. The exotic man could tell by Ichigo's nervous stare and frozen body that he was again terrified again; he'd have to try harder to get Ichigo to stop being so fearful of something that he shouldn't be hiding... It would take time. Grimmjow figured it would be too cruel to play up on this a second time so he was a good boy and took his socks and combat boots from the floor and went over to a corner of the room. On account of the closet jutting from the wall right beside the door it made this corner not visible from the doorway. Grimmjow took to slipping on the socks and then his boots and stood up straight with his back to the corner. The footsteps had veered off momentarily after probably climbing the stairs but whomever it was came back out into the hall moments later and was moving closer.

 

            "Ichigo?" a man's voice called from down the hallway.

 

            Standing near the door, a mostly dressed Ichigo was about to close it when Grimmjow snapped his fingers to get the young man’s attention. 'Turn off your light,' Grimm mouthed silently, pointing to the bedside lamp which was the only light that they were using to see to clean up. The man reclined against the corner with his arms crossed.

 

            Ichigo followed the clever instruction. The bedside light clicked off and he cast a glance at the corner. He couldn't see Grimmjow _at all_ through the darkness. Just like an illusion. Just as Ichigo shuffled over to close his bedroom door his father appeared in the doorway. "Woah! Dad!" Ichigo jumped, "You scared me."

 

            Isshin laughed, stalled in the doorway. "Sorry, son."

 

            His father held up a fancy tailored black suit on a hanger and Ichigo temporarily forgot his dangerous situation. "Is _that_ mine?"

 

            "Sure is, yours to keep. It's for that funeral we're attending in a few weeks, Ryūken brought it to my office directly this afternoon so I had to bring it home today. He said to tell you 'hello' from Ishida too. I'll hang this up in your closet-"

 

            "Oh, I can do it."

 

            "Son it's not like hanging up a cheap blouse or a t-shirt. You have to be careful." Isshin got past Ichigo regardless and stepped into the dark room. "Why isn't your ceiling light on? It's hard to see." Isshin questioned venturing over to the double door closet and rolling aside one door in the dark.

 

            "My light burnt out." Ichigo lied, feeling a bit bad but it seemed harmless enough. He thought he was safe, until his father reached up and pulled the string attached to the light in the closet. In his life Ichigo had never come so close to fainting as he did at that very moment. Wait a damn second...where the hell was Grimmjow?! The teenager’s posture stiffened, he'd been distracted by his dad this whole time...

 

            Isshin hung the suit and made sure it wasn't being crushed by any other clothes. "There! That's how a suit needs to hang. Gosh I can't wait to see you in this, son. You're going to look great!" The man turned and beamed a smile at his traumatized offspring. "Ichigo? Are you alright?" he asked warily, suddenly noticing the strange expression.

 

            Unaware that he was expressing exactly how he felt Ichigo shook himself from amazement, "Oh! Y-Yeah dad. I just don't think the _monsters_ in my closet will like that suit taking up their space."

 

            "Hahaha. Ichigo I think you're a bit too old for that." Isshin shook his head and blinked as by the closet’s light he saw that there were papers _all over_ the floor of his son’s room. “Your schoolwork?”

 

            “O-Oh, yeah Dad… I bumped into my desk and the stack just fell.”

 

            Isshin walked to the doorway again, careful to step around the papers. "Huh, well that explains some of the noise. I'll have to get some light bulbs to replace the one in your ceiling so that you can see your way around. Use your lamp or something, I don't want you to go blind or break your leg. Ok?"

 

            "Sure dad." Ichigo clasped his hands together behind his back and began counting the seconds until his father would leave his room.

 

            "I had a long day at the hospital, a patient ran off a few days ago and we've been trying to help the police locate him. I took a short nap when I arrived home but it didn't do me much good. Normally I wouldn't make such an excuse but I'm really exhausted, would you please take your car and pick up Yuzu and Karin from their friend's house for me?"

 

            "Sure dad." Ichigo nodded and smiled.

 

            “Thank you.” Finally, Isshin removed himself from his son's doorway and went back downstairs.

 

            Ichigo checked the hall then closed his bedroom door and went _straight_ to his bed. That was the _only_ place Grimmjow would have had time to get to for his little disappearing act. He looked under it and there was nothing. The closet then? It had to be! But why hadn't Ichigo heard him move the door? The young man started rummaging in his closet, moving some clothes aside and found nothing. "Grimmjow...where are you?!" he whispered insistently before searching the other side. That half was only stacked bedding, blankets, pillows and bed sheets all folded in a tall neat pile; nothing could have been hiding there. Suddenly Ichigo felt a chilly breeze and whirled around to see a grinning Grimmjow sitting on an open window's sill. "How the-"

 

            "Sneaky. I'm a bit sneaky that's how." Grimmjow watched the younger man turn off his closet's light and roll both doors closed again while the autumn breeze from outside gently lifted strands of his hair. He was rather satisfied with the feat he'd preformed.

 

            Ichigo moseyed over to the window and relaxed between the man’s legs, holding onto his companion around Grimm’s waist. "I didn't feel a draft when you opened the window." Ichigo tugged on the hem of one of his shirts that Grimmjow had somehow gotten a hold of. "You snuck out the window _and_ got one of my shirts from my closet without _two_ people noticing."

 

            "Don't forget, one of them knew I was here." Grimmjow's grin widened and the young man before him drew closer.

 

            Staring up into vivid blue eyes Ichigo didn't have trouble following them when Grimmjow leaned down to lay a tender kiss on his lips. Grimmjow was so mysterious...so very ominous. It was a delicious sort of mystery that only made Ichigo crave more and more of his cerulean haired god by the minute. As they kissed crisp fall air rushed in through the window and the two bodies shared their warm moment, again meshed as one.

 


	20. Paper Twist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: nuuudity

**Chapter Twenty**

_“_ _Paper Twist”_

 

 

            After sneaking out of the Kurosaki residence via the roof Grimmjow met with Ichigo in the front yard. He had been hopeful that the young man would let him linger a bit longer, but the kid did have to retrieve his younger sisters sometime tonight. Ichigo had made it abundantly clear to Grimmjow that he didn't want Yuzu and Karin to know about Grimm...at least not yet...so the suggestion of picking the girls up together was null. So instead Grimmjow begged Ichigo to let him drive the Mazda to the club where Ichigo had already offered to drop him off; the exotic man really missed driving a car. It was so strange…but the blue haired fellow felt like he was starting to like the idea of being a dangerous secret. Danger, which wasn't life-threatening, made his balls tingle, quite literally.

 

            Already knowing that Grimmjow was a ridiculously accomplished driver Ichigo agreed to his meager plea, it was only a short drive and his Mazda would be fine in this man’s hands. Ichigo was unexpectedly rewarded with not just an enjoyable drive but the promise of a personal lap dance, strip tease, whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it later. Running a bit wild over that generosity Ichigo's imagination made his pants uncomfortably tight, the young man was hard put not to fidget. How ironic that when they'd first fooled around Grimmjow was concerned about getting caught giving out freebies and now the man didn’t give a damn; obviously Grimmjow had loosened up about that a bit. Who knew though, Grimmjow's initial worry might have just been a ploy to give himself time to consider sleeping with someone he didn’t know from Adam... Was that even a realistic concern for him though? While they drove Ichigo thought over these things and stared out of the Mazda’s window at street lamps and lights on buildings they whizzed past. Sometimes he looked back at the exotic form in the driver’s seat with appreciation. Grimmjow's smooth driving put him at ease; he felt so peaceful, couldn't this car ride just last forever? Not at any time did the brakes ever jerk or make him lean forward, Grimmjow even shifted gears so effortlessly that it wasn’t obvious that this car was a manual and needed to be shifted. Even the exotic man’s hands had this particular fluid way of sliding around the steering wheel and moving the gear shift... _‘He must've had a lot of practice’_ , Ichigo thought while Grimmjow talked to him about something he wasn't fully aware of; the man seemed just fine carrying on a one-sided conversation. Ichigo was just as content in just knowing that Grimmjow liked to talk to him. After too short of a time, the pair pulled up in the parking lot outside of the club, H.E.X. - as it was formally named, and both got out of Ichigo's red Mazda6 so that Ichigo could drive and Grimmjow could be on his way. Now that it was Ichigo's turn to drive he felt a little dismayed. Like a gentleman, Grimmjow held the door wide open for the young man and closed it when Ichigo got back in. Settling into the driver's seat Ichigo noticed the exotic man leaning against the door; Ichigo missed riding next to his blue haired conversationalist already.

 

            With his forearms crossed and crouching with his head in the open window Grimmjow watched Ichigo buckle himself in, wishing silently that he knew what was making the young man seem a little on edge at the moment. "It was great seein' ya again kid."

 

            Ichigo replied with a smile to camouflage his bittersweet thoughts, "I'm glad you're alright. I would have come to find you but I didn't know-"

 

            Grimmjow lifted one hand and gently stroked Ichigo's cheek with the length of his thumb. "It's better that ya didn't. Those guys might've still been skulkin' around guarding whatever they were doin'." Honestly, if something would have happened to Ichigo who would have been looking for his sorry butt he would have felt worse. Grimmjow’s hand tipped Ichigo's chin up before he set both forearms against the door again. Keeping Ichigo’s spirits up felt like a high priority. "I hope I'll at least see ya in the audience again."

 

            "Why's that? You don't like dancing for anyone else anymore?" Ichigo was just joking around but the possible truth of that joke faintly occurred to him. The orange haired young man sat up straight to give his companion a kiss and drew back immediately after the peck. "Sorry, I'm being kind of clingy."

 

            Grimmjow shook his head with a reassuring smile. "Don't be. Your kind'a clingy doesn't bother me." He reinforced his statement by gently returning the kiss after his say. The tender contact, one mouth on the other, was well met. The cerulean haired entertainer drew slowly back after a lengthy farewell, savoring the last of Ichigo's heated breath and the taste of his lips. "Ya know kid, you're lucky."

 

            Ichigo searched the watchful blue eyes. "How so?"

 

            "Because ya haven't lived long enough to turn into an asshole."

 

            "I don't plan on becoming one at all," Ichigo said sternly.

 

            Retreating from the window with a smile Grimmjow stepped back from the car, "Good!" he barked before stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets and turning away to walk to the side entrance of the building. Not once did he look back to the Mazda. He didn’t know why…

 

            Ichigo waited and watched his handsome dancer disappear through a side door into the building after a minute. He didn't really want Grimmjow to go but his family wouldn't take this news well and besides...what they'd started was a fling, and it would most likely end because of that. Complications, complications...what was Ichigo supposed to do about those? With a sad sigh Ichigo pressed in the clutch to shift the running car into first and navigated out of the parking lot. He merged with the late-night traffic on the main street. Now on his way to pick up his little sisters, he was hopeful that memories of the best parts of their time together would be able to keep himself out of the skepticism that they wouldn’t be more than a fling.

 

 

            Inside the boxy club building Grimmjow traveled down a hallway, nodding at the guard as he flashed his employee ID, pocketed his wallet again, and continued through a doorway into a wide-spanning dressing room. This was a pretty big room. A lot of men and women crowded around the vanity desks off to his left, and more clothing racks than he'd seen backstage in a long while were all lined up to his right. Seemed like tonight was a big night for a Thursday… He touched a woman gently on the shoulder, she was already in a costume of sorts. "What's goin' on with business tonight?"

 

            A little irritated she slipped free of his grip and shrugged, looking Grimmjow up and down as she replied, "There are a few well-known businessmen in a group out there. Eeeeeeveryone wants a piece. Who wouldn't honestly? You better hop to it too or you'll miss out, if they like men." She then shuffled away and mixed with the other hustling bodies.

 

            Grimmjow sighed watching the fast-paced backstage world before him. Why did it feel vaguely like trying to make money off of those rich cats all of the sudden was so pointless? He wished that he could just melt away for the rest of the evening, though he knew he shouldn't as another thought entered his mind… Considering he'd been in the hospital for months he didn't even want to speculate about the medical bills he faced, this job didn't come with health insurance and his wasn’t that great anyway. He'd already given Isane his information before they'd left so that he wouldn't be walking out on the payment and get arrested. She said she would take care of filing it for him, she’d promised, and he believed her. Anyway, trying to score a few hundred extra bucks from a group of rich horn dogs actually wouldn’t be a bad idea to pay of those medical bills. If they were really rich it might be a couple thousand… Hopefully Szayel hadn't fired him either! Doubtful. Pinkie liked him and his revenue too much.

 

            Meshing into the crowded backstage area Grimmjow groaned softly as bodies bumped against him; he was sore and feeling a tad drowsy. Scrubbing himself down and primping when he felt like this were always hassles; these were some of the last things his groggy brain felt like doing. Grimmjow shook that idea from his lazy head. If he had been alright to go two rounds with Ichigo he was alright to dance his way into earning his keep. His brain was only trying to justify an excuse to dodge work, it was unlike him. At the very least he'd need to shower first to wake himself up a bit. Pushing through the scuttling mass of entertainers Grimmjow tromped in his combat boots down a hallway past the vanity desks where there wasn’t a crowd. He'd need to be clean and well shaven anyway to even get a second glance from clients. The routinely used showers were like too crowded, but he knew a better way. If there was a tip that important persons were in the building his handler, Szayel, wouldn't be anywhere near his office, and pinkie had a private shower in there that he regularly let Grimmjow use. The exotic man tromped up to Szayel's office doorway and walked in very nonchalant-like, closing the cherrywood panel door firmly behind him. The office was neat, as usual, and quiet… All of the noise from the backstage area faded away and Grimmjow took a deep, relaxing breath as he walked into the adjacent bathroom through another door where he began pulling his clothes off.

 

~

 

            Twenty minutes later he was squeaky clean, wide awake, and finished douching... Despite some others' opinions about cleansing with enemas being relaxing or sexy Grimmjow found it altogether uncomfortable. Unfortunately, it was still a necessity to be perfectly clean tonight. It could be mortifying otherwise. Grimmjow wrapped a white towel around his waist with his half head of long cerulean hair ruffled dry, boots in hand, pants and shirt over his forearm; the slightly damp man stepped out into the main room of the office.

 

            He was about to leave to get the rest of himself ready when something on Szayel's ornate desk caught his vigilant eye. An emblem on a piece of paper there looked strangely familiar...exactly like the one on the front of a certain hospital. He moved closer and checked the paper. 'Florentine Central Hospital' was typed in neat print next to a heart with the Caduceus symbol in the middle that designed in a stylized emblem unique to it. H.E.X. was located in Florentine City so visiting that hospital wasn't out of the ordinary, but something about a medical paper like this being open on Szayel’s desk just felt fishy. It wasn’t just Grimmjow who was allowed to use his office, there were a few other people, so personal documents shouldn’t be left out like this. Looking closer at the medical document Grimmjow found _his_ signature scrawled at the bottom. Not Szayel’s… _His_. ‘Grimmjow Jaerjaquez’. What in the… The question: Did this paper concern him? nagged no longer at his mind. How the _hell_ did _that paper_ get _here_? In worry Grimmjow’s brows furrowed, he'd never signed something like this...Isane had given him very different papers before they’d left and he’d read them all…and for fuck's sake he'd been unresponsive for three months so he couldn’t have done it beforehand. Short of having someone tape a pen to his hand there was no way. Even then how would they have known what his signature looked like?! Grimmjow gritted his teeth together, he wasn't sure if he should be angry or alarmed.

 

            Lifting the top page of the document to see if there was continuation to it, there was another corresponding paper underneath of the coversheet, but this paper looked unusually different, like it was an entirely different document by itself. He read it quickly. "'Statement authorizing the… …protocol to alleviate victim trauma… …wave all fees regarding…' … The fuck?!" he croaked a bit loudly in shock. This was an official document to dismiss all of his medical fees. Was this real?! It looked very fucking official. Who in the _hell_ could do something like this?! Grimmjow shuffled with disbelief between the documents again. These papers were definitely legitimate, stamped with approval and signed by himself and witnesses including… “‘Doctor Isshin Kurosaki…’” … _his_ doctor… “‘Isane Kotetsu’…” … _his_ nurse…and… “‘Sosuke Aizen’, oh fuck me…” Grimmjow swallowed dryly. "'Chairman and CEO of Florentine Central Hospital'," Grimmjow swallowed something hard in his throat again. This was a huge surprise to him. _His_ client… His creepy client was the owner of that huge fucking hospital?! So wait…all of those gifts from Aizen…the man had probably come straight into his room to deliver them in person! Not only that...Grimmjow bet if Szayel hadn't already told that obsessive creep his real name that Aizen had it now for sure.

 

            Feeling his stress redlining, Grimmjow ran a hand over the shaved half of his scalp and shook his head in disbelief. The final blow was the amount of money that the second document stated that Grimmjow would have owed. He couldn’t reject this kind of generosity. Printed across the bottom corner, he swore once he saw two commas in the full number, and it made him nauseous. Why couldn't hospitals just be inexpensive like hotels? Not a realistic wish but it sure would be fucking nice if they could.

 

            After swallowing his nausea, the clever man took both documents to the office's photocopier, making two colored copies of each. Not trusting this worth a damn, he returned a set of fakes to the desk. There would be no at-a-glance difference between the originals and the fakes. Szayel shouldn’t have his medical documentation unless Grimmjow gave him explicit permission for he figured appropriating these was fair game. Now Grimm folded the others, originals and another set of fakes, into fourths to slide into one of his combat boots. These documents were his as far as he figured, so technically swapping them out under the circumstance wasn’t stealing, right? …and well…the rather loose fact that it’s only illegal if you get caught. That expression was debatable. Whatever reason Szayel had to be sneaky holding onto these wasn't going to get the best of him... The office's cherrywood door creaked. The spooked cerulean haired entertainer flinched, quickly back off from the desk, at the unexpected appearance of his pink haired handler.

 

            "SKIY!" the figure nearly shrieked, startled but happy…apparently. Szayel was holding tightly onto several glittery garments folded against his chest.

 

            Grimmjow swallowed his surprise. "Really? Ya gonna keep callin' me that when I’m not bein’ a show pony? I told ya it bugs the hell outta me."

 

            Wandering into the office Szayel’s eyes blinked toward the desk near the exotic man. They were too close together for his comfort. "Oh...I'm terribly sorry, so sorry _Grimm_ dear. But umm...what're you doing...in _here_?" He shuffled over to his desk and casually set down the glittery garments that he was carrying to flip over the documents casually…the same ones that Grimmjow had just replaced.

 

            Pretending not to notice anything peculiar, Grimmjow had a tough time keeping his composure, not laughing, at the fruitless effort. "I was takin' a shower. That a sin?"

 

            Szayel turned around and crossed his arms in a sarcastic manner, "Not exactly, a shower washes away our sins so to spea- Oh my sweet Mary... W-What happened to your b-body...?" Szayel rasped before clearing his throat so that he could talk more clearly. The scars that he saw on the other man were obvious and severe! This reaction was one of genuine horror, not faked at all.

 

            Assuming that the damage hadn’t been described well enough to Szayel…Grimmjow guessed that the related documents hadn’t included a debriefing about his injuries. The documents really only listed his condition as 'severely injured' and 'comatose' vaguely. "Oh, that..."

 

            Szayel set into his entertainer who looked like he’d been through a war now. "Where on earth did you run off to these months?! The city slums to see yourself murdered, or that gang infested area farther downtown?! Oh goodness I've told everyone here that those places are trouble, you’ll never make any money there, and here you're the scarred pioneer who wouldn’t listen to me!" The pink haired man gripped Grimmjow’s arms with both brows furrowed.

 

            "Woah, woah, woah... It's nothin' like that, pink. I just picked a stupid fight."

 

            "Grimm dear, you were gone for three whole months..."

 

            "I spent some time in recovery, couldn't get outta the damn hospital." And that wasn't a lie.

 

            Szayel gave a long sigh and let go of Grimmow’s arms. “Well you are _truly_ lucky that I didn't decide to fire you considering that hiatus. Goodness…these marks are wretched! I will have to apologize personally to Mister Sosuke,” Szayel cleared his throat, “ahem, who is in fact out there right now with some of his big business friends...” Szayel further inspected the hair on Grimmjow’s head, “Oh god…your hair is half _gone_.” The pink haired fellow sighed in defeat, “I suppose it's kind of sexy still...hmmm.” The pink haired, frilly dressed man tapped a slender finger on his glossed, and now pursed, lips and with another sigh he spoke up again, "I will forgive you for coming back a mess because you came back at all and you're quite a big shot out the on stage for us. You more than earn your keep, unlike other ungrateful whores I keep around, but no more brawling and getting yourself hurt like this! Got it?"

 

            Grimmjow only raised an eyebrow but Szayel had become too preoccupied with his dancer's appearance to care about a response because pinkie was right back into chattering about it a second later.

 

            "I suppose I'll go get some trimming scissors and an outfit ready for you. Let me take care of your look for tonight. I’ll make you look better. Color preferences?"

 

            "Not nude tonight?"

 

            "No, no. It's only Thursday Grimm dear… That would be saved for Friday, you didn't remember about that did you?"

 

            "Must've slipped my mind." Grimmjow shrugged, nearly letting his towel drop as it had been slowly slipping as he just stood there shifting his weight somewhat between his two feet. He reached a hand down and caught it in time.

 

            "You've been gone for too long..." Turning around and taking the flipped-over documents in a casual manner with the glittery garments he’d set down, Szayel coughed an 'ahem' sound and swiftly made his way to the doorway of the office. "Six-inch heels are a requirement for tonight. Now, what colors should I fetch for your clothes? You at least get to choose that."

 

            Casting a frustrated glance Grimmjow griped about the heels, "I'm not tall enough already?" The apathetic expression he received after complaining meant 'nonnegotiable'. At least colors of the outfit were his choice tonight, "Black, anything black."

 

            Always with that depressing color... "You always choose black..." Szayel whined, "You've got to have other colors that you enjoy..." Studying Grimmjow's expression for a moment, Szayel realized that the handsome man might be willing to compromise. "How about this… I will do you the honor of selecting _one_ other color to go with black, just _one_ , and you don't complain about the shoes and I will pick ones that are not torture on your soles, hmm?"

 

            "If the color ain't purple or pink that sounds fair to me."

 

            "Alright then we have an accord. I still can't understand why you hate wearing tall shoes. Those long legs of yours look magnificent in heels, but I suppose they are a little impeding to walk in."

 

            "Try hazardous, and shouldn't ya be hurryin' to get me out there before Sosuke gets bored and decides to leave?"

 

            "Point taken, but after three months of wondering where you’d fucked off too I doubt he’d choose tonight to walk out. Anyway, I'll give the colors my best...but I'd really like to dress you in something more exotic next time..." Pinkie left the doorway on his mission.

 

            In probably five minutes or so Szayel would be back. So Grimmjow’s blue hair wasn't 'exotic' enough on him..? Man, things were so different now than when he'd started working for Szayel and that mystery club owner who wrote his checks every month. When he'd first started here he was told that the nights’ themes or requirements were decided by Szayel. Now it was more of a democratic vote as to the nightly themes and Fridays were always reserved for nude entertainment. Everlasting requirements though were that during a shift he was always required to make a certain number of appearances on stage of at least one hour each and no more than two hours. For every evening he was also required to earn a minimum profit, which he had been lucky enough to reach every night because he wasn’t very good at being enticingly sexy when he’d gotten here. He'd started at the bottom of the barrel and eventually been pushed to the rarified top. It was practically an event to just to get him cleaned up and dressed because when Szayel sent him out they both knew how much more successful a perfect appearance made him. Additionally, in a sad way, Grimmjow’s independence at the club had disintegrated a bit. Szayel kept such a close eye on him. This career truly wasn't all it'd cracked up to be. Even though Grimmjow was cut a larger percent of his earnings now, he was Szayel's expensive life-sized Ken doll.

 

            Grimmjow looked around the decorative office, the hangings on the walls and plants had changed since the last time he'd been in here. To make an office so nice Grimmjow had a hunch that Szayel might be siphoning money from clients' deposits… He never had solid proof of it but the money that customers had to spend to get personal time with entertainers was only pinkie's job to manage. Cash only. Tips were left to the entertainers. H.E.X.'s anonymous chairman left his club's functions to trusted associates like Szayel, but who said that these associates were really trustworthy with so much money coming and going? Grimmjow only hoped that between the direct tips he was allowed to keep and the percentage that he was paid that Szayel's meddling wouldn't reduce his pay by much into the future.

 

            Right on cue, and five long minutes later, Szayel pranced back into his office. In moments pinkie had Grimmjow out of his towel with his things on the floor and was behind the handsome man, smoothing out a pair of onyx shorts that were on Grimmjow against the exotic man’s sculpted butt. "Have you lost weight? It was easier to get these on your hips."

 

            "A bit."

 

            "Hmm...well I would normally frown on that but!" Szayel slapped lotion on Grimmjow's freshly shaven legs to add a glistening touch. "I think your thinner legs are even better looking than before. Same muscles, just more elegance. Your flexibility hasn’t degenerated has it?"

 

            “No.” Grimmjow shuddered, the lotion made him cold and he didn't like Szayel spreading that cream on him in sensitive places. "Hey! Watch it," Grimm tried to shrug off hands groping around his crotch as Szayel moved around to adjust the shorts and work the lotion into his thighs. "I'm gonna get enough of that tonight as it is..."

 

            Szayel seemed to be indifferent. "Make sure that thing sticks out. These scars up your back are grizzly." More of the lotion was being coated across Grimmjow's entire back and shoulders, "You will need attention to be focused between your legs and _away_ from these horrendous marks if you expect to do well tonight and not scare Mister Sosuke and his friends."

 

            "Some people like scars." Grimmjow remembered what Ichigo had said about his. It was nice to know that the orangette could look at them and be concerned without being disgusted. There had to be other people out there who thought like that, but they probably weren't going to be in his audience.

 

            “Not on bodies that they want to fantasize about fucking.”

 

Grimmjow huffed. With lotion spread over every inch of his exposed skin, Szayel finally brought Grimm his trademark ankle bracers with the bondage loops. "So where’s the other color? You’re just gonna let me wear black without even fighting me about it?"

 

            Deadpanning Szayel reached back to additionally hold up a pair of boots by their tops. These had thin blue stripes down the length of the boots' sleek material, which matched the light shade of Grimmjow's hair. Their heels were thick. "Remember our deal? I am _not_ letting you get away with a solid black outfit tonight."

 

            "Are those lifted combat boots?" Szayel wouldn't be that merciful, would he? The support from those would be so much better than stilettos because the heels were chunks instead of sticks, plus in Grimmjow's opinion, the boots looked cooler. A lot cooler.

 

            "Well yes, I spotted those shining examples you had in your hand and got this idea. They're still the heels Mister Sosuke likes but they'll ascent your haircut and color in a punk sort of way. Not to mention no one's worn these since they were ordered a few years ago and that’s a total waste of money."

 

            Switching the bracers’ placement to his wrists, Grimmjow balanced on one foot at a time to get into the flashy black and blue boots. It was a little tricky. Three straps wrapped and buckled around his calves, the tabs from each stuck out on the sides, these were some seriously cool shoes by his opinion.

 

            Szayel used some liquid foundation to cover up what he could of each scar’s discoloration and began dusting parts of Grimmjow's body with a faint layer of moisture absorbing powder. The powder was a trick all pole dancers at H.E.X. used. The slippery lotion that they used on their bodies made climbing on the poles dangerous so Szayel had begun buying oil absorbing powder and powdered chalk and he mixed the two powders together to make one. Pole dancers could still have soft, glowing skin and keep good traction for their holds on the poles when the mix of powders were applied to very specific places. Pinkie added just a little black eye-shadow and a slight ascent of electric blue eyeliner along the top lashes of Grimmjow's eyes to finish off the punk-ish look. "Open your eyes, dear." Szayel said, capping the eyeliner and taking a step back to admire his creation. "You're perfect! A true figure of beauty for what it’s worth with those scars. Now let's get you out there."

 

            Belongings tucked in his arms, Grimmjow walked several strides ahead of a proud Szayel out of the office. With a wave pinkie diverged to go off and monitor other entertainers that were working tonight; there was plenty to keep track of. Mingling with a less packed in crowd backstage, Grimmjow found some people who flashed crude stares and some who smiled and nodded approvingly at him. Most of the staff and entertainers at H.E.X. knew who he was by stage-name or appearance at least; that wasn't necessarily a good thing but it had its beneficial points at differing times. Finally getting through the remaining crowd Grimmjow approached the wall of lockers where everyone kept their belongings. Most of the entertainers were working on their stage appearances so there was hardly anyone crowding the locker-space. Grimmjow was quietly thankful. His personal locker was here and he tried opening the combination lock several times; it was hard to remember what order the numbers he'd memorized went in but eventually after those few tries it clicked open. The trick was to not try too hard to remember. Instinct won out. Stuffing his clothing, wallet and music player inside he slammed it shut and just then a sudden voice came up from behind him.

 

            "Grimmjow! I forgot to trim and style your hair!"

 

            The exotic man whipped his head around; there was pinkie again. Damnit, hadn't he just freed himself from this guy? "It doesn't need to be trimmed. I'll comb it to the side and fluff it up a little," he replied.

 

            Szayel looked irritated. "Well fine! But do an _exceptional_ job at it! Mister Sosuke loves your hair. This sudden change of looks may surprise him."

 

            'Somehow I think not,' Grimmjow wanted to say but bit his tongue. "Yea. I'll make it look nice." With that Szayel disappeared into the mass of people again. While he was putting away his street clothes and wallet in the lockers the amount of entertainers got even smaller backstage. When he was done Grimmjow visited a sink to dampen his hair a bit and made his way to the vanity desks. Much less crowed than they had been, Grimmjow got a little peaceful time to himself, for thought while blow-drying and styling his blue tresses.

 

            In his hospital room a paper with Ichigo's home address scrawled on it had been folded and slipped into a tiny plastic bag, zipped shut, and dropped into the water in the vase on the overhead shelf above his bed. The same vase with the single, humble red rose in it. It was a mysterious coincidence but the note hadn't led him astray. The lone rose was so humble by itself; it couldn’t have been connected to Aizen’s lavish gifts, and in fact had been placed in such a way that it was banished from immediate sight unlike the placement of the others. Its significance was of a totally different nature. Could Ichigo have been the one to leave him that clever note? If so why hadn’t Ichigo mentioned it? The young man was far too surprised when he’d showed up at the house to not know, surely. If not...what did that mean? Someone knew about them? The urge to abandon work and walk back to Ichigo's house tempted him greatly. Sadly there was Aizen to consider; that damn brunette must've noticed that he'd run away from the hospital a few days ago and come expectantly to H.E.X. to find him. Damn that smart fucker, damn him straight to hell. And damn him again for waving a medical bill that he couldn’t have paid off for another thirty years…he was in debt to him without question now. If he ran away from his suppose Aizen would jerk back that miracle paperwork on the spot. Grimmjow had to play this carefully for right now. Get back to Ichigo when he could, and he had every intention of doing so, but also figure out a procedure to get the document checked before something bad happened. Into the mirror Grimmjow stared intently, as if expecting it to suck him into another dimension far from here. Maybe wishing it would.

 

            Honestly, Szayel had done an amazing job hiding each and every blemish on his skin. Glowing beautifully and handsomely Grimmjow saw the skin of a porcelain doll on his reflection. Blue eyes electrified with the eyeliner and brightened by the dark eye-shadow stared back. It was just a pity that his reflection was such a façade. He was tired...and soon to be exhausted after playing a role he really didn’t want to play right now. He didn't have a car to drive back to his apartment in… He didn’t have someone to go home to… Not to mention he might have been evicted after not paying rent for three months… So what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t worry about everything all at once. Grimmjow closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his folded forearms on the vanity desk. His soft, fluffed blue hair gently tickled over his bare shoulder as his mind left his body for a few moments and he tried to get his nerves together. Oh how he wanted to lay on Ichigo's bed again and relax right now…not just because it was soft and inviting, but because Ichigo would most likely be sharing it with him.


	21. Statuesque

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: nuuudity, vague masturbation, pole dancing, alcohol, creeeeeeps

 

**Chapter Twenty-One**

_“_ _Statuesque”_

 

 

            Against Szayel's wishes, and Aizen's too probably, Grimmjow had taken off his burdensome boots and the bondage bracers backstage and left them by the curtain; two leaden weights that would only hinder his movements he’d shed. It wasn't like Szayel would be, or could be, monitoring him as pinkie was busy with about thirty _other_ entertainers who weren’t even ready to go on stage. A stagehand by the curtain sent Grimmjow out alone on the center catwalk when it was time, a gleaming pole awaited at its end. So many other dancers were already out here on their own catwalks in pairs. Grimmjow didn't need any sort of partner and he never asked for one, never wanted one. Bright blue eyes traveled across the span of the vastly obscured audience as he approached the polished metal pole. The cerulean haired dancer reached for it and unhurriedly circled it once with a seductive strut around. Men and women whistled as he stepped slowly in time with the club's booming music. His fingers instinctively brushed down the shining length of the pole. It became apparent that, even after three months, slipping back into this nightly routine was going to be like getting into a pair of well-fitting jeans. No struggle at all.

 

            All eyes nearby were upon him. Grimmjow liked being the center of attention, he didn't proclaim it but he wouldn't deny it. The exotic man felt a strong dispatch of excited blood pump through his veins. _‘Aaahh...’_ He could feel the charge straight into his nether regions, it was refreshing. This was the rush he craved so much. Damnit, it was good. Grimmjow took a refreshing breath in before he began after circling. With two hands holding the pole, feet spread apart and his butt pushed out, he gyrated his hips to stretch his sinewy muscles. If Szayel hadn't done such an astounding job of camouflaging his scars the blue haired dancer's thoughts might have lingered around the grisly marks he bore. Scars or stripes, would an audience have the time to care about imperfections on a moving body?

 

            It seemed convenient that the lighting had created two separate worlds, a haven for the performer and a black sea for everyone else. The exotic man straightened up and continued to strut around the pole, rolling his head nimbly from side to side. Swaying of his hips flaunted his sculped rear. A hand rubbed enticingly over the curve of his hip and made the people in the audience crave the touch of his flesh. Spectators close to the stage whistled as they watched warming up to his presence onstage, some reached to brush their fingertips against whatever they could but they couldn’t reach him... Their hands always came so close…but none ever touched him…the sexy, untouchable god on his stage. "Mmmm..." Yet only free in this small circle. Was it…really…freedom?

 

            While flaunting his shapely body with seductive strutting and stretching Grimmjow surveyed the leering crowd. Perhaps he was keeping an eye out for Szayel or Aizen, or perhaps he was just searching for someone with a semblance of Ichigo's tangerine hair... With a smooth movement Grimmjow hooked his left leg around the pole.

 

            "Damn, bitch you've got some nice legs!" someone announced above other whistles and calls.

 

            With his left leg hooked up on the pole Grimmjow allowed his hands to roam over the inner parts of his thighs and prominent groin. The black material of his shorts was just stretchy enough to perfectly display the pronounced bulge centered on his groin… The shadows and highlights from traveling strobe beams helped to outline the curves of his sack and cock and his ass’s perfectly formed cheeks.

 

            "Frickin' tease!" someone shouted. Damn right...and proud of it. Not just anyone could make money off of that trait. Grimmjow tantalizingly traced the tip of his pink tongue around his lips with a long lick toward the dark sea of the audience.

 

            There was startlingly loud whistle, "Take those panties off for us!" someone called. "Let us see your cock, cutie!" A request the blue haired stripper threw an insincere pout to and didn’t oblige. Some of the audience 'aaawed' at the pitiable refusal. As Szayel had reminded him, tomorrow night was when he'd have to dance in the buff. For now he wasn't taking off anymore clothes, they would just have to like what they were given. Luckily for the audience, Grimmjow knew how to grant an extremely agreeable view.

 

            It was time to stop teasing and get the ball rolling or people would get bored. Grimmjow grabbed the gleaming metal shaft with his left hand and then slung his body around it in a seemingly reckless manner. This move displayed an odd sort of violent grace. Really he was being more careful than his actions let on. Lifting up his right foot momentum alone keep him spinning.

 

            "Don't get dizzy baby!"

 

            "If ya slip ya can land in my arms, I won't mind!"

 

            While gravity taxed his skilled spin the exotic man’s right hand came into action and seized the pole at a point higher than his left. The crowd exploded as Grimmjow set into a Martini spin and then used all of his upper body strength and the new grip to elegantly lift himself into an Inverted Aerial "V" as his spinning slowed down more. Between his extended, spread legs the pole found its place, touching his constrained manhood. Groundlings were privileged with a perfect view of the strapping dancer's solid latissimus and bulging deltoids, triceps, biceps, and those gently sloping, muscular legs...

 

            "Don't fall now, I wouldn't wanna see those limbs of yours in casts!"

 

            The gentle blue tresses on one half of Grimmjow's head stuck slightly to his perspiring skin. Man, he had forgotten just a bit how much energy inverted moves burned. The dancer's legs closed to snake around the metal shaft. Sweat trickled down his face and dripped off the edges of his jaw and nose. Grimmjow ground his torso and aching, constrained length against the pole in graceful waves. This close to the pole like this, he was unable to fend off the fantasy of a cock pressed between his ass-cheeks, threatening to penetrate. In this position an erection at his groin was quickly growing and he ground it incessantly against the metal shaft. Fuck that felt sensational.

 

            From this lofty place the statuesque dancer wound around, twisting and flexing, lewdly displaying _everything_ he had to offer, never once touching the ground. Whenever Grimmjow spread his legs apart and mocked a cry of delight, as though something were between them pleasuring him, the somewhat shrill chants of the spectators peaked in volume. After dexterously slinging himself over the heads of his captive audience for an extended amount of time, he resumed his previous invert with his legs coiled. Grimmjow ground against the metal for some relief from his unmerciful lust. Fuck that fantasy just wouldn't quit. He desperately wanted to get off being fucked right now. If only he could have had Ichigo again tonight...

 

            The exotic man couldn't help his casual searching of audience members' duskily shadowed faces. He wanted Ichigo's to appear with that same lost and aroused mien the young man had shown him so long ago. Such pure desire...lust...without a stitch of cruelty or corruption. Ichigo had really stuck out in the black sea... Sadly all that the cerulean haired entertainer picked up were dark splotches, unfamiliar faces, and vulgar commentary. These onlookers weren't pure in the slightest. After thirty or more minutes solid of being up there without resting his arms and body, he ached. From a head down position Grimmjow came slithering closer to the floor. It was about time he dismounted so that he didn't fall, though during this decent he felt something he'd never experienced before...

 

            Strobe lights from above switched off on cue with the thrumming music and in a moment or two the luminescent tiles in the stage flared up with bright neon. A godly musculature became a silhouette to the audience who gawked in sheer awe of the body in dark shades before them. Grimmjow's hearing faded, and he could only imagine Ichigo standing up in front and gazing up at him with awestruck hazel orbs of desire and perhaps also admiration. Any other thought seemed so...tasteless...without any kind of sapid flavor. Other dancers around him maintained their routines but Grimmjow was frozen into an idle pose. He watched a few of them. Each was a pitch-black form against the other poles, silhouettes like him. There was no originality in ambiguous human silhouettes no matter how beautiful they were. There was no more pleasure to be gained from his audience's licentious cries. Never before had he not wanted to finish a dance...but this evening he just didn't...

 

            A knot formed in his stomach, it felt like a pit. An emptiness he couldn't cure alone. Grimmjow was a professional so he would force himself to finish this dance; he had the balls and the skill to get it done no matter what. For his next position his bare feet landed solidly on the glowing cerulean stage's floor. Stalking around the pole to keep his crowd from complaining while he contemplated this weirdness, Grimmjow was plagued with his own reality. It was normal to draw satisfaction from his dancing, yet now he felt nothing good at all. Suddenly he felt odd exhibiting his curvaceous and graceful body to strangers... Anything not as purely delighted with his muscular physique as Ichigo had been was null and dull. Grimmjow swallowed something dry and hard in his throat. Why was this happening?! Was he upset with himself? Maybe he was regretting his misused years of youth… Maybe it was a little of both.

 

            After carrying on a light routine for the rest of the hour, part of the amount of time he was required to be on stage, Grimmjow couldn't wait to stride back up the catwalk and just vanish. He'd been anxiously eyeing a digital clock over the bar, monitoring the time change by the minute. The lights throughout the club's main room were beginning to dim. Spastic strobe lights' flaring calmed down. On the last beat of the song playing, Grimmjow's arms rose above his head and folded around the metal shaft behind his back. His spine was arched to display his well-formed pecs and perky nipples. While his left leg stayed flat against the pole his right stretched forward. Pointed toes, as he struck desirable pose…and felt rather ridiculous like a show pony. Granted he still looked like a god with smooth flesh and perfect assets to the audience, but he didn’t feel sexy personally.

 

            Breathless and dripping of sweat, Grimmjow's body wished it could tremble, shiver, and collapse. His gut and inspiration felt hollow. It didn't matter if the routine was light, he was still tired out and rather demotivated. Opposite of this hidden fatigue, a healthy rock-solid erection was very obvious in his tight black shorts. The audiences at each stage roared with appreciation as every dancer finished out their performances simultaneously to the song that played out and ended. The lights in the main clubroom returned to normal, and the stages were again lit from above as another song beat started. After a bow but without gathering tips that were held up or tossed onto the stage Grimmjow stormed quickly back up the catwalk while massaging his throbbing temples to seek shelter behind the backstage curtain. Safe behind the curtain again Grimmjow felt sick, nauseated, and perhaps guilty. Needless to say, the audience was just a bit disappointed with their entertainment's sudden exit.

 

            Once he was through the part in the curtain Grimmjow immediately snatched up his boots and bondage bracers. It used to be a ritual to wear those leather cuffs, he liked the jingle their attached rings made and the feeling of the leather; however, tonight he wasn't feeling the same way about his old bracers. Additionally, concern for his financial standing had been pushed off the deep end with his new troubling matter… How was he supposed to keep working if he didn't feel motivated enough to dance?!

 

            With an expression no less weary and stress riddled than he felt Grimmjow ventured over to a stagehand so that he could get a bit of information about what was going on tonight. Currently this 'helpful' man, with all of the employees’ names and schedules, was trying to chase a pair of dancers out onto the same catwalk where Grimmjow had just come from. It was probably their turn. Grimmjow walked up to the quarreling group of three and stood silent and polite waiting to ask the man for his agenda.

 

            One of the female dancers which had been quarreling with the stagehand had noticed the exotic blued haired man waiting beside her. "Well don't _you_ look strong. Could you lace these up for us if you're just going ta just _stand_ there?" She'd definitely indicated Grimmjow as the receptor of her request.

 

            "Yeah, because some people here can't tie a knot or pull a string," The other female dancer teased the stagehand and received a scowl from said man. It wasn't really a stagehand's job to help dancers with their costumes, so it wasn't a very fair expectation.

 

            "Sure..." Grimmjow replied trying not to sound irritated by their pushy demeanor. The sooner they were dealt with the sooner he could ask for his agenda. Grimmjow slipped on his bracers and set down his boots. Both of his hands were free now but quivering slightly while he wound the strings of one corset around the brackets on the back of the first girl's outfit.

 

            "Worked ya ta death out there did they?" the girl whose corset he had yet to start lacing remarked.

 

            "Close to it, girly," he responded without wasting much focus on his words. Lacing this ridiculously small corset took serious effort. Grimmjow doubted that this was the proper size meant for this girl. He was just lucky that between his tired state and the tension in the laces that either didn't cause him to do a sloppy job. Grimmjow tied off the laces then started on the next woman's outfit.

 

            "How's it a strong lookin' man like yourself knows how ta tie a corset anyway?" This remark came from the woman who had initially asked for assistance. Her heavy city accent and touchy implication were slightly worsening the irritation that Grimmjow already felt. She didn’t notice that he was suppressing irritation.

 

            Holding onto the laces he was currently working with, one freed hand lifted to indicate the BDSM bracer, "Bondage corsets work the same way." After that, the women didn't comment further. Grimmjow pulled the final laces tight, then wound them into a neat knot. "There." He turned the woman loose and the pair immediately stepped away to gossip, no ‘thank you’ given. Grimmjow caught them eyeing his groin, then tittering to one another. All he could really do was brush it off. Who hadn't he caught staring at his crotch at one point or another? More people than not…especially at H.E.X. …and if they thought that they’d given him that boner…those women were unfortunately mistaken. Even Ichigo wasn't innocent of not staring, purely lustful and not egotistical or haughty as the young man’s interest had been. Grimmjow was not shy fortunately and stares happened so often that he could probably call his crotch his second face by now and be well justified. It definitely got enough attention to be one. Anyway, more important things were needing to be taken care of. He still had to snag that stagehand's attention before the guy could wander off or start talking to someone else. "Heya pal!" The man with the clip board turned to face Grimm and smiled upon recognizing the man who had just saved him trouble with those two women. "Anyone ask for Skiy?" Grimmjow pressed politely.

 

            The middle aged and outrageously dressed man, wearing seven different bright colors across his clothes at the very least, raised his pointer finger then began flipping through his papers. "Thanks for saving me suffering through those two's bitching. They harass me every night!"

 

            "Not a problem."

 

            "Skiy... Skiy..." He'd found the stage name scrawled in blue ink. "There's only a short note written here. It seems as though Mister Granz has closed you off tonight for an exclusive request, booth ...erm...I think that's a five..." he read from the clipboard. "Damn this handwriting..."

 

            Shit...well if Sosuke was in H.E.X. there should be no question about who had reserved him but that had to be a very recent request. The timing of such an exclusive request all by itself was an odd thing. "I'm pretty sure I know who I'm lookin' for. Thanks man." Grimmjow watched the pair of pretty women, which he'd helped, prance through the curtains for their turn in the limelight. Their movements were nothing short of 'prancing', he was glad he didn't act goofy like them. That behavior was utterly degrading in most ways. At the same time though he was envious of their free spirits. Dancers like those two weren't tied down to specific clients; they were free to do whatever they wanted on that stage without scrutiny so long as they earned money. The responsibility of having a rich benefactor began to reinstall itself in Grimmjow’s head and plagued his thoughts. What cruel fate had assigned him to service Aizen in the first place anyway? They'd met by chance. Sosuke had been brought to H.E.X. and at first he seemed like a dream come true because Sosuke Aizen was wealthy and chivalrous in public, but in private Grimmjow learned of his sadistic underbelly over time. It took time to realize, too much time to change one’s mind about the client that they’d taken on. To deny Aizen would probably have been financial ruin among other things that Grimmjow cringed to imagine…and now knowing that Aizen was the probable owner of the largest hospital in Florentine he cringed even harder to imagine. What an unfortunate pit of a situation.

 

            After wandering off to the bathroom to take a well-earned piss his hard-on only ached more. Why not take a few minutes in the shower? He could rub one off and wash himself clean of sweat, but there wasn't snowball's chance in Hades that he was going to whack-off in the employee's showers. Pursuing this idea of needed relief, Grimmjow sauntered to Szayel's office again. This time he went with pinkie's permission and Szayel assured him privacy. Off on his own in the private bathroom Grimmjow whipped off those tight shorts and his bracers before cranking on the hot water in the shower. Steam puffed and filled up the quaint room quickly. While Grimmjow washed himself and eased his nerves, surfaces were being coated with precipitation from the cozy humidity. He ignored every surrounding detail and immersed himself in a mental fantasy to lift himself from this filthy place. He allowed the almost scalding water to pour over him and took _every ounce_ of his frustration out on his cock. Just as his hand _never_ wandered from his manhood and balls and the water _never_ ceased to drench his skin, in his fantasy his thoughts _never_ wandered away from Ichigo. That young man was stamped permanently into his mind and he would never let the thought of him go. After more than once being the center of his thoughts tonight at pivotal points Grimmjow was beginning to realize that Ichigo wasn’t someone whom he was meant to let go in life.

 

            Fifteen or so minutes passed and Szayel strolled into his office, anticipating that his entertainer would need a reapplication of make-up from earlier. Approaching the cracked bathroom door Szayel arrived just in time to hear Grimmjow's final sigh of relief while riding out his climax. "Grimm dear? Feeling better?" Well it had almost been perfect privacy, but he did have to make sure that the exotic man wasn’t going to stay in there for an hour or more. When Grimmjow had come to see him about using the shower again it would have taken someone beyond daft to overlook the dancer's perplexedness, and Szayel was anything but stupid. A stupid man wouldn’t be in charge of a fairly big, successful, and adult-rated club like this. It took a minute for his entertainer to answer, but pinkie was patient.

 

            The shower switched off and when Grimmjow pushed the bathroom door open he was wrapped in a towel with his bracers back on. He looked physically less stressed out.

 

            "Are you feeling any better?" Szayel reiterated with actual concern.

 

            "Much..." Grimmjow answered with another sigh and sporting a genuine smile.

 

            Dressed up again, this time in stiletto heels because Szayel had noticed that he’d taken off the boots for his performance and this was a tiny punishment, and made up almost exactly as before, Grimmjow exited the backstage area and strolled into H.E.X.'s main clubroom. The floor. Dance music and its obnoxious thumping roared, its bass line thrummed under his elevated soles while he walked with purpose through the crowded areas on the floor. All kinds of people in the crowd groped and touched him, typically slipping money into his ass-hugging shorts as he passed by. He expressed appreciation by smiling or winking without stopping his confident stride. These interactions were totally normal behavior. Unfortunately, the bills it merited were usually singles and on occasion a few fives, they weren’t much of a tip; some people were just that cheap, but hey it was a quick thrill.

 

            Alongside entertainment here at H.E.X. protection was also a highly stressed matter. Not the kind of protection found in a condom wrapper or the security of a sexually transmitted disease screening. This establishment for flesh hungry creatures was very well fortified by a selection of guards but it didn't operate on a perfect system. Some important entertainers, ones with broader reputations than Grimmjow, had escort guards that followed them around. There was also general security, equipped with concealed firearms. The detail about trained men with guns was never made explicit to customers. It would likely make too many people ill-at-ease and harm the business. Still, the idea here was to _contain_ assaults and prevent rape and murder. Nothing like those last two had ever been a problem at H.E.X. specifically but when egging on people's lust anything was possible and the unpredictable was probable at some point or another. This fact Grimmjow had had already started to hash out for himself firsthand but he’d never asked for a personal bodyguard for himself. Obviously still alive and kicking, Grimmjow wasn't ever the victim of a murder like some entertainers outside of H.E.X. however, with Sosuke Aizen as a client the possibility of rape snuggled up to his ankles like a sociable cat every time he spread his legs for that man. Why he continued spreading them for someone so dangerous, no one understood because he told no one about it really…

 

            After weaving around crowds by the booths for five minutes, Grimmjow finally spotted Mister Sosuke, as suspected, and the wealthy man’s friends at booth _three_ , not five. Miscommunication and mistakes in general were some of Grimmjow's biggest pet-peeves. Oh well, at least he hadn't needed to search the other side of the room. At the lavish booth he noted two men on either side of Sosuke. Aizen was clad in a grey suit, the other men wore black. They were definitely his buddies, which implied that if he went over there that Sosuke's entertainment would become a group affair for sure. Fuck...well if he was going to give those other suits something to remember too he was going to do it with dulled nerves. Grimmjow didn’t think that he could tolerate it any other way. Bypassing the booth section for the bar, Grimmjow tugged out the bills wedged unaesthetically in his shorts and folded them together while walking. Just a little self-medication without a prescription... Alcohol was his drug of choice and it would do just fine.

 

            Grimmjow hopped up on the metal step under the bar's counter and raised himself up to eye level with the bar tender there. "Heya, Klayton, could ya hold onto these for me?" The meager stack of folded bills he held up for the bar keeper to see. "Please?"

 

            Klayton's attention was attracted first by the familiar shock of cerulean and the money second, "Oh, hey Skiy! Sure thing! Don't forget to come back for them though." Taking the wad of papers from Grimmjow's extended fingers, that clever man even found a rubber band to wrap around the small stack. "And you make all this _just_ by walking around...I'm jealous," the long-haired bartender teased. He was a redhead of sorts with an orange tinge in his hair like Ichigo, but not anywhere near as young or tangerine.

 

            "Last time I saw ya there wasn't that much hair there, huh?"

 

            "Oh you mean this?" Klayton flipped his ponytail over his left shoulder. The bound strands reached almost to his navel. "I've been growing it out. Suit your fancy does it?"

 

            "Yea, I like it." Grimmjow slid his hands over the smooth marble counter. "I need a shot if it’s not too much trouble."

 

            “For you?”

 

            “For me, yeah.”

 

            The man slipped the money under the counter to keep it away from grubby thieving hands; Klayton was one of the few here that could _always_ be trusted. "A shot of what exactly, Skiy?" he gestured to the expansive collection of different beverages in colorful and decorative bottles on shelves behind him.

 

            "I really don't care, surprise me."

 

            "Alri~ight," the man chimed with a smile. One shot of vodka with some orange juice was mixed in a small glass which Klayton pushed toward his friend.

 

            "A screwdriver? Really?" Grimmjow mocked as he picked up the glass and tasted it. This was a very common and basic shot.

 

            "Are you complaining?" Klayton asked in a teasing sort of way, leaning over on his forearms. "I'm not even supposed to be giving you alcohol."

 

            "Not complainin' in the slightest." Grimmjow drank the rest of the mix absolutely pleased with its flavor and kick. "That was pretty sweet tastin' to be a normal screwdriver."

 

            "I mix a little extra sugar in with the orange juice and _shush_ , that's my personal secret. Come back after you're done with that royal prick Sosuke, I'll make you something special to take the edge off." Undying devotion to Sosuke Aizen on Grimmjow's part was no secret, especially when that brunette was one of H.E.X.'s most prestigious patrons.

 

            "That is if he finishes with me before ya get off work."

 

            "I'm working the full shift tonight, waaay late. Trust me I'll be here, and I'll tell you this Skiy..." Klayton lowered his voice and tipped his chin down a bit, "... _I_ could offer you a whole lot more fun than you'd have with Sosuke." The bartender was kidding around a little bit.

 

            "What makes ya think I don't have my fill of fun servicing him?"

 

            Grimmjow was joking back but Klayton would play along, " _Servicing_ , huh? I bet he tastes like truffles and caviar." They both chuckled at the joke. " _Anyway_! It's not against the rules for the bartenders to play with the dancers. I can dream, can't I?" The bartender gave Grimmjow a moment to stop laughing at his jokes before lowering the mood, "On a serious note you need to be careful around that guy, Sosuke. I don't like the recent rumors that have been floating around."

 

            "Rumors?"

 

            "I stand here for hours at a time so naturally I hear a lot of gossip and chit-chat when people come to sit at the bar. Plenty of people know _him_ by reputation so they talk. They all seem to mention the same thing. He's temperamental, with a little extra emphasis on the _mental_ part." Klayton leaned on the counter with his forearms. " _Mister_ Sosuke strikes me as a shady fellow and those business partners he's been bringing with him as of late are just the same shade."

 

            "And ya don't think I already know Aizen is a shady prick?"

 

            "I'm not saying that you didn't know, just trying to reinforce that thought." The red-orange haired bartender tapped his pointer finger against the solid counter, "Since before you went MIA, I've been hearing horror stories about a couple of girls and some guys at other clubs actually being raped and murdered around Florentine." Klayton curled his finger in again staring Grimmjow dead in his bright blue eyes. That kind of a look almost made the exotic stripper and prostitute squirm at first. "You're a good guy Skiy, weed out the bad apples in your clientele."

 

            "Ah, I'll talk to Szayel and see what I can do about that." Which, in a word, was 'nothing'. After discovering what he had in Szayel's office, Grimmjow couldn't toss away Aizen, but that wasn't something Klayton should probably hear.

 

            "You better. Do all you can to figure out who is safe and worthwhile. Now go play house for a bit, and after you're done come get a drink and relax. Maybe _I'll_ give _you_ a lap dance while you're taking a break, hmm?" Klayton grinned impishly and flicked his ponytail over his shoulder again.

 

            With a chuckle Grimmjow stepped back from the counter, "Ya know I just might take ya up on that..." and unhurriedly left the bar to weave through the crowds of swaying clubbers again. Regrettably Klayton's screwdriver hadn't done much for him, but Grimmjow was lightly buzzed so he'd have to mindfully control his actions because they _would_ matter. Sosuke Aizen was a particular man. An example: he insisted that his precious Skiy refer to him as 'Master' not 'Mister'. The excuse behind that one was apparently that 'Master' served as a better display of loyalty to his benefactor. It was really just a word to Grimmjow and his affections were just a play. Plenty of words comprised a play, not all of which held truth. He didn’t live his role, he just played it for an allotted time.

 

            The handsome blue haired entertainer strolled up to Mister Sosuke's booth and gently placed his palms down on the booth's table, which - similar to the dancing stages - had a pole running through its center. The rings on Grimmjow’s bondage bracers clacked down and he gazed warmly at the brunette in the grey suit. "You rang, Master?" From the start Grimmjow had quickly drawn three pairs of eyes to himself. Aizen's simply lit up at the submissive address, the other two were a bit more studious.

 

            "Why hello my Skiy! I've missed you terribly."

 

            _'Sure ya have, creep...'_ Grimmjow growled at the back of his mind. Drinking one screwdriver had luckily only made his inner monologue mouthy. All the while he flawlessly pretended to yearn for his 'Master's' attention as was their usual song and dance.

 

            "You look stunning with that new haircut, it's very alluring." Aizen gestured to the subtly nodding men on either side of him, "My associates agree. Now, I hope this doesn't upset you but during your earlier performance I'm afraid I couldn't help but brag of how beautifully you dance. So now my associates are craving an up-close perspective of your poetry in motion... I know it's typically just my lonesome self whom you dance for, but if you are comfortable performing in front of my friends we would all be inexplicably grateful. Would one dance just for their sakes be alright? "

 

            Damn Aizen for having the gall to even pretend that he had a choice. People just liked to flex their power Grimmjow supposed. Of course he wasn't entirely comfortable with randomly being asked to satisfy two more sets of eyes with no formal warning; it wasn't alright, but circumstances being what they were it had to be played out as alright. At least there were only two other men, strangely one of them appeared to be blind, his opaque glasses hinted such. "I'd be pleased to dance for your friends." The room swayed faintly as Grimmjow stepped up onto the table in one fluid stride; probably from both the shot and his tired body…why was he so tired already? Taking the pole protruding through the table-top from floor to ceiling in hand, Grimmjow strutted around the gleaming silver. Rolling his hips as he moved; he was sure to flaunt his legs and caress the sides of his body with either hand that wasn’t on the pole. With personal dances it was pretty rude not to face your client so he tried to turn his front toward them as often as possible in flirtatious manner. Despite his polite and tantalizing efforts, the dancer received just a few approving glances. The three men were actually too busy muttering amongst each other to give him their full attention. Psh, and _he_ was worried about being the rude one... How annoying, but he couldn’t appear annoyed. Play the role…just play the role.

 

            Despite rude behavior on his private audience’s part, Grimmjow preferred this distraction in a way. It wasn't as difficult to put his mind elsewhere now, and without ogling he could dance with his eyes closed or mostly closed. Images he imagined strung along a picture show of sorts in his imagination. Memories and fantasies, fantasy and fact, pleasant history and future wishes… Grimmjow fantasized about putting on a show for Ichigo of course; he was unable to stop grinning about that. From the start Ichigo seemed barely capable of watching his dancing without fainting, which was funny. Most people weren’t so pure. Maybe one night he would really have the chance to dance _just_ for Ichigo. _Now_ would be preferable, but maybe a night like that would come soon. Grimmjow wished it would.

 

            Minutes flew by like seconds while he was blissfully lost in dreamland as he shifted in sexy turns, dips and spins around the gleaming pole. Couldn't it stay like this? Sadly the answer to that was 'no'. After about fifteen minutes Aizen brushed the backs of his fingers against Grimmjow's flexed thigh while Grimmjow was at a point of crouching, grinding close to the pole. Immediately Grimm was snatched from his happy trance and clung to the pole for balance, staying still enough to see what Aizen wanted.

 

            "I'm sorry to interrupt but I couldn't help noticing that strenuous effort to earn my attention is winding you. My precious Skiy you seem tired." Gingerly the brunette brushed his fingers up and down the cerulean heel of Grimmjow's stilettos. "Is there something you would like to ask me? Would you like to rest?"

 

            "I-"

 

            Aizen wouldn't let the exotic man finish that statement, "Taking a break from your dance would give me the chance to make up for our missed time."

 

            _'No thanks Master,'_ Grimmjow wanted to declare, but alternative words slipped out of his mouth, "And your friends?" Instantly Grimmjow regretted speaking at all. He shouldn’t have, for his own sake, said that. Professionally it was perfect. Personally…likely the gateway to a nightmare of a time. _‘Way to coax trouble out from its cave...great job dipshit…’_ Grimmjow scolded himself internally.

 

            "Well, Mister Tosen has some prior obligations I believe."

 

            "Yes." The dark haired black skinned male confirmed. "I digress, as much as I've enjoyed this flirty show Skiy, and both your company, Aizen-sama and Ichimaru-san, I have a final meeting to attend before the night closes." The dark-skinned man, with strange glasses, gingerly lifted one of Grimmjow's hands as he rose from his place at the booth. A crouched Grimmjow awkwardly accepted a gentleman's kiss to the back of his hand. "Good evening," Tosen bade him, releasing the dancer's hand and bowing to excuse himself before departing entirely.

 

            With a pretentious air, Aizen observed the dark-skinned male as Tosen blended fully into the crowd and disappeared before again speaking, "You're to stay, Gin?"

 

            "'Course! I like this pretty, long-legged friend of yours," the squinty eyed man professed, "I'd like ta stick around long enough ta see him without so much clothing blockin' my view."

 

            Ha ha... So funny... Grimmjow forced a smile instead of a grimace. Sarcasm already…he was beginning to despise this other guy from the get-go. The two remaining men rose from the booth. Aizen left Grimmjow to his own devices to follow them so the blue haired entertainer carefully helped himself off of the table. The room swayed a little. Damn wobbly heels... Screwdrivers, exhaustion and stiletto heels, one would think an experienced prostitute would know better than to mix all of those. Aizen cast a sickening smile at his quarry and lead the exotic man away from the main room to the private rooms hallway. Ichimaru followed acting much like tree sap, sticking and resticking, always close so parts of his body could graze up against the well-endowed dancer. In a word this was 'aggravating' to Grimmjow. During their walk, Grimmjow focused on the pop dance music vibrating the floor so he wouldn't have to pay attention to Gin. Maybe one day they'd break from playing this pointless noise for something more worthwhile...any music in the rock and roll, metal, indie or eighties genres...something with more heart than this soulless pop dance stuff. For fuck's sake even country music would be acceptable. Grimmjow sighed softly to himself and tried to shake a hopeless wish, when Gin suddenly squeezed one of his ass cheeks. That was pretty damn hard to ignore. Grimmjow jumped this time and, after calming down, checked over his shoulder and caught that son of a bitch snickering.

 

            "Just wornderin' if those were real or not," Gin remarked unabashed, "Lotta these hussies aren't genuine. Bet'cha could tell which are and which aren't quicker than I could, eh? How 'bout it? Point me in the right direction."

 

            _‘Prick.’_ Grimmjow looked away without answering. Even to his most disliked face here he wouldn’t hand this Gin character over to. Until they arrived at Aizen's usual private suite, Grimmjow was going to try thinking about music again; which sadly made him miss cruising around in his car. Squinty would fade into the background behind all of these potent thoughts. Transitioning from the main room and stepping up those familiar carpeted stairs to walk through the shoji sliding doors went by all too quickly while his mind was flooding with song titles, lyrics, and musicians. Grimmjow might not have liked this pop music but he knew what songs were called, who made them, and hear the lyrics so often that who wouldn’t have the repetitive phrases memorized by now?

 

            Grimmjow was a thrill seeker. Plain and simple. He liked things that made his blood boil, his dick hard, and his nerves prickle without being in mortal danger… It was part of the reason that he’d come to be where he was at now making money through strip teasing, pole dancing, and prostitution. This habit of thrill seeking as it got larger and greedier was a bit like a sickness though...a sickness whose nature seemed to elude Grimmjow. It was torturing him.

 

            This trade, prostitution, required thick skins for all sorts of things. Grimmjow had grown such skins and retained a number of tolerances by now. In bed he'd learned to grimace less often at unsightly individuals. When an inexperienced partner got in a hurry and hurt him he'd let the person know, help, and keep going. Even on the extremely rare occasion when Grimmjow was presented with an elderly person, who were as enduring as wet tissue paper, he still knew what to do and treated them with care. If he was saddled with a BDSM freak he worked within their parameters. The list went on and on. It was well known that Grimmjow was a most desirable bedmate, but that was because he would become _anything_ his client's hearts desired. He was a pet or a tool right until the timer went off. It gave him a rise, got him excited, then finished him off, but...Grimmjow thought he could leave _any_ unpleasant experience behind after time was up, as though it had never happened. He thought he could endure anything that was only playing a role. That was only because he overestimated himself and didn't understand...

 

            Even a statuesque human being, in all of their glory and beauty, isn't a match for recurring neglect and abuse. Consistent elements weather marble statues, and repeated abuse alters human beings. Neglect to hearts’ desires break down souls… Such is the nature of even the strongest of stones and men. Though...the real concern was with time... How long would he last?


	22. Dear Dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: n/a

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

_“_ _Dear Dad”_

 

 

_[An hour or so after dropping off Grimmjow at H.E.X. ...]_

            Ichigo pulled up to the curb in front of his home and set the Mazda6 in neutral. He rolled up the windows, because of which his sisters whined and begged him to unlock the doors next.

 

            "Ichi-nii! Let us out, please!" Yuzu's sweet voice made her brother feel a little guilty. After all, he was deliberately trapping them in the car.

 

            "Huh? What did you say?" Their brother retorted putting a hand to his ear as he teased.

 

            "Ichigo you jerk! Open the doors!" Karin growled, tugging uselessly at the handle.

 

            "I'm sorry? Did you say, 'I will never threaten to open a door again when the car is moving?'"

 

            "Ichigo!!! You jerk!" They both yelled. Yuzu's yell was more of a squeak though. Karin kicked the back of the driver's seat and sent her brother's face into the steering wheel. While he was down she reached over him and flipped the child lock off. The door locks audibly clicked and the two girls bolted from the Mazda together and escaped into the house with their backpacks.

 

            Ichigo rubbed his pained nose and forehead, man Karin could be outrageously temperamental sometimes. He followed their lead after turning off the engine, getting out, closing his door, and relocking the vehicle. It would be a cold day in hell when he left his car unlocked and parked on the street. Ichigo shuffled along the walkway, cluttered with fallen autumn leaves, up to the house and pushed open the front door. What he'd done to Grimmjow...dropping him off at H.E.X. so quickly when he could have swallowed his nerves and introduced Grimmjow to his family; it was plaguing his mind. Kicking his shoes off inside Ichigo strolled around a corner into the living room after the door was closed behind him. Should he just continue to hide Grimmjow like this? It didn't feel right...it felt a bit inhumane. Ichigo fumbled to pocket his car keys.  Maybe if he just moved on, what was done was done. They'd had some fun, ruffled some farmer's feathers, escaped death, and banged a few times. So what? It wasn't like he'd have to worry about getting another guy pregnant and they'd both survived the Faltsville incident so no murder mysteries. Strangely though, the detail about not having to worry about pregnancy made Ichigo feel a bit more comfortable with his sexual preferences. Anyway, if he wasn't going to hide their relationship he should just break off their...um, _what_ should he call their connection? It wasn't a 'normal' relationship, Grimmjow wasn't his boyfriend or lover... It was a fling. There, Ichigo's mind was willing to accept that label. So he should break their fling off, right? Did you need to break off a fling? Don't postpone the inevitable though…

 

            A bit flustered over his situation, Ichigo rested his forearms on the back of a couch and hunched over to look around the room while he thought this out. Grimmjow _would_ understand if he said that he couldn't visit him at H.E.X. anymore, right? Ichigo felt a long drop of sweat trickle down his neck. What if the exotic man deliberately ignored him or didn't believe him and then came over to his house to talk things out anyway? Panic rose in Ichigo's guts thinking about his childish father answering the door. He chased that thought out of his head quickly. There had to be a kinder way to explain himself to Grimmjow. The orange haired teenager was distracted momentarily from his personal problems by Karin who bounded out of the kitchen to the living room couch with an armful of snacks. The T.V. came on an instant later and a rabbit-like creature danced across the screen. Distracted, Ichigo couldn't help but watch the cartoon. The rabbit suddenly ducked behind a tree before a trailing hunter, who looked rather frustrated, could spot him. Boy did Ichigo feel like that rabbit right now… He wondered who the hunter was. He had to shake the unsavory idea of being hunted from his head.

 

            "Karin please don't spoil your appetite and don't worry about cooking Ichi-nii, I'm making leftovers for dinner!" Yuzu announced cheerfully from the kitchen doorway.

 

            A much relieved Ichigo sighed; he hated the pressure of cooking for the whole family and was more than willing to eat anything, including leftovers, which his sister made. She was a wonderful pint-sized chef. "Thanks Yuzu," he said with a smile before moving to the staircase to go upstairs. Intending to wait in his room until dinner Ichigo thought he was in the clear, until his father cut him off at the top step. Ichigo tensed up, "Not going to kick me down the stairs this time?" He winced at the possibility.

 

            "Would your father do something so cruel?" Isshin comically scoffed with his hands on his hips.

 

            About to nod, Ichigo gulped instead. He'd sighted a certain stark white v-neck shirt, which had reappeared from the void in his dad's clenched hand.

 

            "Ichigo could I have a word with you about this?" Isshin tromped down the stairs in his fuzzy slippers. Apparently that question was a one-way street because Ichigo's arm was snagged and he was towed along. The middle-aged man pulled his frazzled teenage offspring through the living room, past the front door, and across the hall into the old family clinic.

 

            Ichigo wriggled free once they entered the clinic. Isshin closed the door and wandered over to his desk as Ichigo casually stuffed his hands in his jeans' pockets to keep from quivering. "What's wrong dad?"

 

            "Wrong? Nothing's wrong son!" Isshin sat down in his swivel chair, looking up at Ichigo. He was still holding the shirt in plain sight and maintaining an inquisitive stare that never broke from Ichigo's eyes.

 

            Drat! What rotten luck, that shirt was _definitely_ going to be the topic of conversation. Ichigo knew if he avoided answering questions Isshin would definitely suspect the worst, whatever his dad would deemed that to be. _‘Wait, he doesn't know that's not mine...’_ "Why do you have my shirt, Dad? If you wanted to wear it you didn't need to ask, just don't stain it. I’m sorry that I left it laying around."

 

            Isshin blinked as though confused, then took a deep breath, "Son, I gave you my good looks, quick wit, and even some of my brains, but..! You can't fool your old man, I know you too well. This isn't yours, is it Ichigo?" Isshin's eyes seemed to flicker brighter at the prospect of uncovering the truth.

 

            Damn that expectant stare. "It _IS_ mine."

 

            "Ichigo, my son whose laundry is either done by Yuzu or myself, this doesn't even remotely have your scent." The teenager’s face turned pale; Ichigo always was a lousy liar. Always would be too from the looks of it. "Why was it in our living room? Did you bring a friend home?"

 

            Ichigo took a spare moment to get a metal stool from a corner beside the clinic door and took a seat in front of Isshin. That moment was also used for a second attempt at bolstering his composure. "Yes," Ichigo answered with a sigh.

 

            Instincts hinted there was more to that answer than just 'yes'. "Yes...and why were _HIS_ clothes on the couch?"

 

            Ichigo made a face, he'd already tried to fake that the garment was his own and failed... Damnit! Lying _sucked_! Telling the truth sucked too! Now it wasn't just about the shirt…but the shirt's _owner_ was the largest part of his secret, damnit! A faint blush came to Ichigo's cheeks as he recalled a blur of Grimmjow pulling off the garment.

 

            Isshin didn't overlook that not so subtle signal on Ichigo’s face. "Son, I don't want you to feel like you need to lie to me. Please tell me the truth." His tone was sincere.

 

            "I brought a friend from school. He needed a shower because his parents kicked him out of the house," Ichigo blurted out as a last resort.

 

            "Ichigo..." Isshin almost grumbled but saved himself by regaining his sincerity. There was no way he would get a teenager to confess something if he was aggressive. "Ichigo, first of all this shirt isn't part of a school uniform. Secondly, even if _he_ changed out of his uniform, I'm sure you're aware that boys your age don't use cologne this nice unless they're trying to impress someone." Isshin reclined against the back of his swivel chair and waited for his words to take effect.

 

            Ichigo swallowed a hard lump in his esophagus, furrowing his brows. His bent elbows rested heavily on his knees and he stared at the dusty floor tiles. Damn...he was backed into a fucking corner! If he had to tell the truth he would admit the bare minimum of it only. Smiling from the nervous panic fluttering around inside of him Ichigo shook his head. If only he'd scoured the living room for that thing, he wouldn't be in this mess. "I'm kind of seeing someone now..." There, he'd said it. Not very loudly but it was done, though he felt a little sick for uttering the actual words to his dad.

 

            Since finding the shirt the possibilities had been overflowing, now that flow ebbed. This hadn't been _exactly_ one of the scenarios Isshin had considered, but hell, teenagers just wouldn't be the same if they didn't throw in a surprise or two once and a while. The same could generally be said for sons and daughters. The middle-aged man rose from his swivel chair to hand the shirt back to Ichigo. His son took it, with a searching stare. Isshin could tell that Ichigo was nervous to know rest of the reaction that would follow.

 

            Seemingly perplexed by his father's silence and how easily the shirt was handed over Ichigo began to feel shame creep in. He clung to the shirt, not falsely hoping it would aid him, while studying Isshin. Suddenly his father yanked him up off his seat and nearly collapsed Ichigo's entire rib cage with a crushing hug. "Dad!" Ichigo whined, distressed about the amount of oxygen forced out of his lungs. This was humiliating even if no one else was watching, plus it hurt!

 

            "I forbid you to lie to me ever again!" Isshin sniffled tears of joy, "but I'm so proud of you, son! You're etching out your future and learning to love!"

 

            "Alright, let me go! Ow-ow-ow!" Ichigo fussed, squirming for his next breath. This didn't feel good physically but telling the truth couldn't always be pleasant. If things had gone Ichigo's way he would have never admitted the truth, but they hadn't. For better or worse, he couldn't know yet. While Grimmjow wasn’t really his lover, boyfriend, or anything permanent Ichigo couldn’t deny that he liked him and that he wanted to see him again… Maybe he shouldn’t break whatever they had off after all. Ichigo counted his blessings while recovering from the fatherly hug of approval and listening to his father muse about his own previous romantic relationships and give advice about love in general. Sheepishly Ichigo listened. His dad been made aware of only a small fraction of his secret, and things would _stay_ that way forever...or until Ichigo had Grimmjow to back him up at the very least…but in a way…it made Ichigo feel better that his father obviously didn’t mind his preference in partners.


	23. Dissolute Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: heavy drug use themes, nudity, oral sex

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

_“_ _Dissolute Men”_

 

 

_[During the time Ichigo and his father were having their heart to heart...]_

            While Aizen closed the shoji doors to their private suite, Ichimaru circled Grimmjow like a frenzied shark...hungry... The scarcely dressed entertainer monitored the sketchy grey haired male as Gin moved around him. The dimmer lighting in this room, which was barely illuminated already, only helped increase the ominous and wary vibe. Some subconscious part of Grimmjow willingly embraced this edgy awareness. He stared down Gin through the darkness; barely being able to see coltish man's silvery eyes made this a noteworthy task. Unlike most people Grimmjow knew that Gin understood that they didn’t like each other already so Grimmjow didn’t put on much of a face for him.

 

            Ichimaru halted his circling behind the cerulean haired stripper’s back after receiving such looks from his subject, not unexpected, "Relax a lil' bit love. I'm just checkin' what we've got ta work with 'ere while ya aren’t movin’ around so much." Daintily Ichimaru laid his clammy hands on Grimmjow's broad shoulders and breathed faintly onto the bare neck of the other man before his fingertips began to move. The thin man understood how much unease he was creating. "Hard tellin' exactly what ya got when ya aren't standin' still doin' yer little dance."

 

            The thin man pinched at the knotting muscles around the base of Grimmjow’s neck, offering a pathetic massage, Grimm groaned unhappily. Man that felt awful... The pinching was agitating flesh and muscle connected by extension to the area where his shoulder's gunshot scar was. Surprisingly that area still ached from time to time on its own. Now the damaged flesh seared and burned as it was subjected to tension. Grimmjow tried to remain somewhat indifferent, but bolts of discomfort shot from his shoulder into his neck and weren’t easy to ignore. While enduring this he stared down at the floor boards in the dingy space of this room he’d come to many times... The floor never looked any different back here. These devilish hands slithered from Grimmjow's neck and down his sides. The pinching massage was over perhaps. Grimmjow could feel the bones within the other man's body jabbing at him as Ichimaru got close. Grimmjow _really_ did not like Gin, but he'd seen plenty of other men who had similar creepy auras surrounding them as this man and he was more used to it by now. Aizen was in fact another man with one of these unsettling auras. What difference did one more man make? For now, Grimmjow would entertain Gin and Aizen, he felt that he needed to. He did not really want to.

 

            Clawing fingertips skimmed over the concealed imperfections on their way down the dancer's back. The dips and raises from scars couldn't be concealed as their discoloration was. Gin's keen touch had noticed this and he felt the urge to mention it, "Aren't pets supposed ta be friendly?" Dull nails prodded into the warm skin of the dancer's back and carried on down to his hips. "This naughty mutt looks like he's been fightin'..." The skinny man's nails dug in harder, holding on rigidly, while he criticized their entertainment. "Now lemmie guess...all the boy dogs just couldn't stand ta see a bitch in heat...so they were a little rough with ya, weren’t they? The poor thing," the squinting man smirked sickly as Grimmjow's posture stiffened.

 

            Grimmjow pretended to ignore the terrible coverup for a whoring insult. Annoyed, he readjusted the direction in which his head was turned. Grimmjow wasn't a zoophile or a fan of bestiality, nor was he a fan of being called a ‘bitch’.

 

            Unfortunately, Ichimaru was still determined to get under this man's skin. Perhaps he liked to watch people squirm. "On second thought, yer pet seems like a man who wouldn’t mind." Satisfied with what he’d had to say so far, Gin held off more taunts to give his superior room to comment, but Aizen seemed uninterested as the brunette traveled to a long couch in the corner of the room and took up a seat there after shedding his grey suit jacket. There was a single table-lamp switched on in a far-off corner opposite Aizen, which barely lit the three bodies of the men and created a candle glow against different textures of objects in the room. The sole light in this place. It was hard to see where the jacket was placed.

 

            By now Grimmjow was biting his tongue so hard that he thought it might tear off. It was rare that one of Aizen’s friends was this mouthy and pesky and fucking deranged. Some of his hot blood began to drain from his upper regions as his heartbeat slowed itself; Grimmjow was trying to keep calm as he was irritated and already not feeling very good. Aizen was his ‘Master’ all and all considered, who gave a shit about this squinty, mischievous dick anyway; Grimmjow was waiting for Aizen's reaction to all of this. Gin’s taunting was legitimate cause for discomfort, the last thing Grimmjow would want was Aizen taking suggestions from his creative cohort and having to survive a gangbang. If this was like any other time when Aizen introduced him to friends, then the brunette might just collaborate. Grimmjow didn’t like that idea one bit, yet something in him held a reasonable amount of doubt because Aizen was extremely possessive of him…and the brunette hadn’t been able to fool around with him for a long time. There was no legitimate reason to think that Aizen would want to share.

 

            Aizen took in a deeply relaxing breath as he settled against the comfortable couch. He closed his eyes and blew the breath out harshly.

 

            His benefactor didn't seem pleased or entertained, but why? Had he been correct to assume that Aizen didn’t want to share? Grimmjow could only wonder, but not for long…

 

            Aizen's eyes opened up again slowly, "Gin, why must you antagonize this young man with vulgar suggestions and improper titles? No wonder he hasn't been his usual enchanting self this evening. Putting up with you, Gin, and being absolutely polite at the same time," the brunette made eye contact with the object of his obsession, "has made my usually very friendly Skiy so stoic."

 

            Being that he was hardly able to see around the richly decorated suite, Grimmjow only caught the faint impression of white and brown gleam from Aizen's devilish eyes. Despite his situation it made him a little hot to see one of the brunette's best qualities. It was odd, but Grimmjow liked Aizen’s eyes, despite hating the man himself, and he would never admit that openly. Ever. Had Aizen had called him 'stoic' just now though? Grimmjow felt a twinge of unhappiness toward that. If Aizen could recognize stoicism from across a dark room then he wasn't doing his job and playing his role well enough, probably due to the fact that he’d decided not to do so for Gin at least. Even though his stoicism had been mentioned no impulse arose to end the less than passionate behavior he was exhibiting toward Ichimaru.

 

            Aizen's eyelids fell lower, half covering his relaxed and strangely luminescent eyes. He gazed at the pair, more so Grimmjow than Gin.

 

            Damn those eyes...fucking damn them. Before Gin could input a remark Grimmjow's voice joined the conversation, "Apologies, Master Sosuke," he half-heartedly admitted, knowing that Aizen might notice that he was being insincere. He needed to distract Aizen’s thoughts. He didn't want to think about being fucked by a series of random men until he couldn’t walk, moreover he didn't want Aizen thinking about it. Grimmjow knew that he could handle chains, cuffs, blindfolds, drugs, but a gangbang was really not up his alley tonight. As a fantasy it was kind of hot, but Grimmjow wasn’t dumb to the fact that Aizen kept a thin moral code and if the man was bored he might just summon several other people at random from the club to join this. All it would take was a snap of fingers and an offer of sex with one of hottest bodies in the building. At least because of his apology Aizen’s train of thought might be more streamlined toward a master and his quarry. By being subservient and clever Grimmjow could gain the upper hand in his situation.

 

            "Oh?" Aizen inquired. He had hoped Grimmjow would say more but the dancer obviously wasn't feeling overly talkative. His Skiy didn’t elaborate. Aizen didn't know why he'd let his hopes rise with his other appendage, it was usual for this exotic man to be less talkative and mostly vocal when it came to sex. Otherwise it was one sentence at a time or so. Aizen supposed he'd acquired a rise from just hearing Grimmjow's deep voice giving a personal apology. The brunette's chemical stained fingers pulled a long, thick chain from the shadows. It was bolted to the ceiling and dangling down just beside the couch. His fingers fidgeted with it. The heavy clasps on the end of the strand scratched lightly across the wooden floor. "My sweet and unusually uneasy Skiy...come to me," Aizen beckoned with one long finger curling toward himself.

 

            Damnit...he hadn't seen that chain there. That probably wasn't a good sort of surprise. As Aizen’s hands moved Grimmjow took notice of the shine from the silvery rings the brunette wore on three fingers of each hand. He suspected they were to distract from the horrid condition of damaged skin on both hands. It was amazing how that detail was still obvious in dim light, the severity of the blemishes was vast, and funny though...Grimmjow hadn't any memory of this skin damage on Aizen before his three-month leave. The exotic entertainer yanked his thoughts from the rings and brought his mind back to the current situation. Perhaps it was wise to stick nearer to the pervert he was most familiar with... Shrugging out of Gin's grasp he obeyed Aizen, approaching his comfortably seated 'Master' with a graceful and seductive stride. He stopped just shy of Aizen’s position, looking at the chain in the other man’s hand. The chain’s presence brought unpleasant memories...

 

            "Don't be afraid. Come to me," the brunette urged.

 

            Weren't people supposed to say something along the lines of, 'Don’t worry I won't bite'? ... Grimmjow didn’t move.

 

            Patiently Aizen repeated his earlier motion with one finger beckoning when his dancer hesitated.

 

            Grimmjow checked behind himself. He glimpsed that skinny weirdo, Gin, with his arms crossed and a chilling smirk decorating his half-lit face. The impossibly pale man hadn’t moved. Grimmjow's nerves trembled but he mostly hid them. Perhaps slinky was waiting for some signal indicating that it was alright to advance. Dash the reason Gin’s presence alone was still worrisome. Grimmjow swallowed his worry and faced his benefactor and then walked forward until his shins were almost touching Aizen's bent knees. He wasn't going to escape servicing _this_ man but he figured he had a fair chance of ruling out Gin if he was distracting enough to Aizen.

 

            With pleased eyes and a gentle smile Aizen spoke, "I really have missed you, my pure sapphire. I would ask you to speak up and tell me what has kept you away, but it seems you are without a tongue whilst Mister Ichimaru is among us." Aizen stroked Grimmjow's solid thighs with the back of his hands. "I suppose hoping for a response would be pointless, would it not? You aren’t feeling very talkative tonight."

 

            Grimmjow smoothed his drying lips with his tongue, relieved that the gangbanging subject had been entirely lost. Apathy reigned in his expression. He hadn't thought ahead about what to say after his apology. Eh...fuck it, he just wouldn't talk; he could probably get away with that.

 

            Aizen caught onto something like the presence of apathy in his entertainment’s eyes and posture. "Well then, I suppose you don't need to tell me. We'll uncover the truth bit by bit eventually."

 

            Why was Aizen so insistent to hear him speak this time anyway? That wasn’t like his Master at all. Usually the rich man was undressed and manipulating his body by now. So because of this unusual behavior Grimmjow was beginning to get the impression that his silence now might hurt him later if he didn’t satisfy Aizen’s wants, but it was better to just keep quiet if you had nothing good to say right? Very conflicting. To break character…or not to break character?

 

            Aizen chuckled at the strangely and unusually chilly dancer. "Are you nervous or still frightened by our Mister Ichimaru?" Silence. The man's dark, lascivious eyes looked Grimmjow’s form over from head to toe when he wasn't granted a response. The inspection stopped at Grimmjow's shining blue eyes that stared quietly right back at him.

 

            Yes, he was unsettled by Gin. Standing still Grimmjow caught and held the stare dead on, suddenly realizing that this position provided an opportunity, one that more than likely wouldn't come again... Yes, he was unsettled by Gin and wanted the snaky man to fuck off. Maybe that’s what his silence could be used to accomplish. Matching the lewd desire within Aizen's eyes with a flawless expression of desirous appeal Grimmjow let his expression come to life and started playing his role again. The handsome stripper hooked his thumbs under the waistband of the onyx shorts at his hips and with a fluid motion dropped them to the floor. Grimmjow was standing in front of Aizen completely nude now. This was definitely the best way to utilize his silence _and_ manipulate the situation. Grimmjow’s locked and seductive expression dripped with 'fuck me' and his bare cock and balls hung out to reinforce the invitation.

 

            Such smooth curves on this sculpted body, such naturally tanned and almost glowing skin, and the dim outline of his large cock caught Aizen’s eye. Aizen was pleased by the abrupt display of lustful willingness. It really said ‘If you want me, make him leave.’ Grimmjow's face maintained a truly strange coldness within the inviting expression. It was so tempting...challenging...and as irresistible as a dare. The rich brunette wanted to lay the exotic man down and make his freezing resolve crumble with pleasure after pleasure. Though entranced, Aizen spoke to Gin, "Ichimaru, give us a moment alone."

 

            "Aaaww. Now that just ain't fair..." the grey haired man complained watching Grimmjow sit down next to his boss and lay a hand on the already sitting man's thigh. This little cur had cozied up to Aizen-sama just to spite him, hadn't he? And it had worked. How fucking clever.

 

            Aizen's gentle stare fixed on Gin, awaiting his compliance. Compliance was expected not requested. "My intention is not to be fair. Though even if it were, Mister Skiy does not belong to you."

 

            The brunette's vigilant eyes didn't waver from Gin, but while Aizen was looking straight forward Grimmjow produced a sly and satisfied smirk. He’d won this round.

 

            The curve of the dancer's half-cocked smirk was darkened and looked sinister with the shadow over the far-off forms in the dim lighting. Gin felt a bit of his frustration boil. Ooooo! This slut's cocksure expression was all to smug for his taste. Behind frowning lips Gin gritted his teeth together. "Don' enjoy yerself too much sir. This one's wild..." the silver haired man bitterly warned before shuffling into another alcove of the suite.

 

            Grimmjow contentedly watched Gin disappear. He thought the smirk was a nice 'farewell' touch.

 

            Aizen sighed softly after Ichimaru was out of sight. He was quite relieved to be through with that. "I'm pleased that you disapprove of Mister Ichimaru's unusual behavior." Aizen's soft voice suggested truthfulness, but he was already pretty good at fibbing. He leaned forward and took Grimmjow by the hands. "For this week past he has been behaving in a rather testy manner, and I suspect he might try to take his feelings out on you - my gorgeous Skiy. I don't intend to let him have the first of you this evening, if any at all."

 

            It seemed like his idea about Aizen being possessive was on point. Right now it was very important to know how to pick through a patron's sugared words, and Aizen had a stock-pile of those. Grimmjow sifted through the commentary. The part that mattered most was the _last_ part of that _last_ sentence. _'...if any at all.'_ The current plan was to satisfy Aizen and get the hell out before Gin could be added to the mix. Taking his hands back Grimmjow slipped one end of Aizen's dark grey tie out of its knot with a gentle tug. Then he slipped the long piece of silken fabric from his patron's neck, but not without imagining the possibilities that might open up if he strangled Aizen on the spot. He could probably do it; he was strong enough, but premeditative homicide didn't seem very wise. Grimmjow tossed the tie, it fell on the floor a short distance from the couch. With care he began to unbutton his benefactor’s crisp white shirt; it was an expensive brand as usual. Grimmjow knew now that Aizen was CEO of a hospital but just how much money did he have to burn on clothes like that…or in a place like this? He didn't think he'd ever seen Aizen wear the same outfit twice. _‘Undress, fuck, get out...undress, fuck, get out...’_ he repeated over and over in his head to motivate himself to keep moving.

 

            Unfortunately his entertainment’s rapid yet gracefully coordinated movements and further silence spelled out stress. "Dear Skiy...is something troubling you?" Aizen ran the backs of his discolored fingers against one cheek on Grimmjow’s face.

 

            Grimmjow's hands parted the white shirt and placed themselves on the other man’s flat, sturdy chest. He wished that he could find some comfort against such a body, Aizen wasn't in poor shape, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He just wanted this over with. The exotic man’s large hands moved over the warm and quite white flesh of his benefactor’s exposed chest. For being such an obvious office dweller Aizen really did have a strong body- Grimmjow stopped those thoughts. _‘Undress....fuck...get out...’_ That was the plan.

 

            "Come now, Skiy." Aizen coaxed, settling his hands against the stripper and prostitute’s unclothed and toned thighs; easily, he could feel the extreme heat radiating from between them. "Is there something particular that I can do to help?"

 

            That question seemed a little sarcastic. Eyes glazing in lust Grimmjow allowed himself to feel a tinge of pleasure as his inner thighs were caressed. His fingers squeezed the pectorals under them, keeping the nipples between his fingers to gently squeeze them. His actions ushered a light moan from his client.

 

            The pleasurable moments pleased his nerves and Aizen's spine began relying more upon the support from the backing of the couch. "I've already chased Ichimaru off so that you would open up, yet I still see the tension in your body. Please tell me what vexes you, I won't be angry." Aizen's fingertips brushed over the entertainer’s half-hard cock.

 

            Why was this questioning setting in while they undressed? Aizen starting some bogus conversation about life or feelings or something else without a real direction couldn’t be anymore insincere. It wasn't polite conversation as some might think; Grimmjow knew better about Aizen. The cruel man was pretending to care, playing his own role in this. This could really spoil the raunchy sex that they were about to have...at least until the point when Grimmjow's mind would go numb as he tried to forget who was attached to the cock fucking him. If he wasn't coherently thinking at least Aizen's commentary could matter much less. Wait a damn second... Grimmjow continued his slow lead into foreplay as a question he'd put at the back of his mind for some time now reoccurred to him. It hit him with some force, if he didn't ask he might never find another appropriate time. He supposed he could use Aizen’s pushy, chattery mood to get it answered. Grimmjow placed his thumbs firmly against the brunette's nipples and gently rubbed in circles around the areole as he aligned the words in a coy way,  "Why did ya bother leavin' all of those things in my hospital room?"

 

            Aizen pretended to be momentarily surprised by the question, "Oh, do you mean that you actually received those presents I tried to deliver?" He gave the a chuckle of sorts.

 

            A slice of Grimmjow's actual self escaped as he forgot to address Aizen as 'Master' and answered in his country slang, "Yeah, I did."

 

            The brunette smiled and caressed Grimmjow's cheek again as the other hand took hold of the exotic man’s unconsciously growing erection. "You know it was so difficult trying to figure out how to get those gifts to you. The hospital attendants weren't as willing to allow a non-blood relative into your room." The hand that Aizen caressed his face with cupped Grimmjow’s jaw. "I hand-picked each flower from the gardens around my estate, I hope they spruced up that dreadfully plain room."

 

            "Then ya got in to see me?" When Grimmjow had first realized that Aizen was the one who'd sent him those presents he was reluctant to seek proof of the undesirable truth, but now he just wanted to know straight up what had happened.

 

            "Of course. Miraculously I convinced the attendants that I could do no harm and they let me pass." Aizen stroked the other man’s cock with more passion, drawing forth a groan or two from the aroused man beside him. Aizen still didn't know what Grimmjow did about the documents in Szayel's office, so his cover story about getting into Grimmjow’s room being a struggle wasn’t going to have the exact desired effect. "Oh my sapphire...you looked so sad in that hospital bed with tubes in your arms and down your throat. Like a modern sleeping beauty..." Azien drew close to kiss his entertainer on the cheek but Grimmjow jerked back.

 

            "Don't-"

 

            "'Don't'? Don't what?" Aizen seemed quickly irritated by the hesitation.

 

            "Don't kiss me." Grimmjow stared Aizen down with disapproval, " Kissin' ain't part of this and ya know it."

 

            "You still follow that silly guideline...honestly, how absurd." The brunette's hazel eyes flared with a volatile nature as Grimmjow's stubborn refusal continued to stare him directly in the face. "Tell me, do you take pleasure in rejecting my affections?" Aizen snapped, drastically tightening his now stationary grip on the other man’s cock. No longer was he pleasantly stroking it.

 

            Grimmjow could feel nails pricking the sensitive flesh. Aizen was intentionally putting his nails into his fucking cock. Who the hell pulled shit like this over one kiss?! Biting down on the inside of his lip a very pained Grimmjow tried to stay calm with the pain as he reminded the brunette, "It's a rule…" His hands resisted tearing Aizen's away, he'd be in hotter water if he tried something outright impudent and he wasn’t a fan of the idea of nails scratching his cock as well. That grip was getting more uncomfortable by the second though. It wasn't easy to hurt a man's cock by squeezing, unless the grip was intentionally crushing, but the sharp nails were causing most of the pain. "Please stop that, you’re actually hurtin’ me somethin’ fierce," Grimmjow requested in a faintly assertive tone. He wanted to punch him…but Grimmjow wouldn’t…he needed this man to continue liking him.

 

            Within a few moments Aizen eased his grip back to a comfortable intensity and sighed.

 

            Grimmjow’s shoulders relaxed and he recovered a little, still a bit disgruntled and uncomfortable by the use of nails. He momentarily closed his eyes and exhaled the pain with an erotic sounding sigh of relief. Thank god…

 

            "Oh my dear Skiy," Aizen began, tipping the other man’s face up and cradling the angular jaw in his palm. "I'm so sorry, I'm not upset with you, but look around us. You know that there is no one else but Gin and myself here, and we would never tell Mister Granz if you bent his rules." A thumb gently brushed over Grimmjow's lips, "Come now...you've used your lips to kiss every other part of me. What would one proper kiss change?"

 

            Aizen really didn’t understand or chose to ignore the fact that it wasn’t a rule of Szayel’s or the club’s, it was just a popular rule among quite a few prostitutes that they wouldn’t kiss their clients on the face. It was just too endearing. Grimmjow maintained his refusal, shaking his head calmly 'no'. He had fully recovered from his recent pain by now so acting calmly became easier. He was very resolute and steadfast with this rule. No matter how hard Aizen pushed he would _not_ willingly kiss that man on the mouth or anywhere else close.

 

            Aizen's head tipped to the side. He inhaled and blew a smooth stream of air out through his nose. "I see. Forbidden fruit, hmm?" The suave man lifted one of Grimmjow's hands and kissed the top of it as a gentleman would. "I suppose then I'll have to settle for bestowing kisses upon your hands and feet until you are convinced."

 

            How corny could you get...? Apparently very much so when it came to Aizen's flattery. Grimmjow fronted a bluffing smile to make the man feel good about his creative solution. If Ichigo had said something like that Grimmjow would've laughed and kissed him a million and one times. Coming from Aizen it just wasn't as cute because the man was an asshole.

 

            "Please tell me, were the bouquets I sent satisfactory?"

 

            Now _that_ was laughable. Grimmjow couldn't contain a chuckle or an honest remark at that pathetic question, "Ah...respectfully Aiz- uh...Master Sosuke, I didn't think it was really the flowers ya wanted me to find satisfactory." After all, under that innocent gift the lecher had left lubricant and a dildo. Those weren't just amusing decorations.

 

            "Hmm. Too right. You've caught me trying to spoil you." Aizen smiled blissfully as his entertainer freely moved atop his lap. Grimmjow’s healthy cock, full and long bounced dauntingly as he shifted. Aizen was satisfied with observing as the other man began to unfasten his smoke-grey slacks and struggled a bit to get the zipper down. "Here, allow me to save you trouble and take these off myself," Aizen said giving Grimmjow a chance to move off before he stood up. "The zipper sometimes sticks just a little," the brunette mused in a friendly voice, fiddling with his fly until it came down.

 

            Grimmjow was left to lounge on the couch while Sosuke undressed himself for a change. This was agreeable. Grimmjow wondered…if Aizen was willing to converse about Florentine Central if he could just keep the charm on and ask innocent questions to get any extra information out of this man. For every time when Aizen had played a furtive mind game with him, Grimmjow had a chance to pay that prick back with one of his own inquisitions. This would mostly be for Grimmjow's self-satisfaction. With his eyes half open Grimmjow’s bright blue irises became saturated in a pure lust, and by the time that Aizen turned around again Grimmjow had assumed a very provocative position. With legs spread and feet resting on the edges of the cushions, the entertainer’s form reclined against the soft backrest and his erect member was up with his index finger gently stroking the slit on its head. Heavy balls hung below, rather low because the room was quite warm. Grimmjow was perfectly shaven, everything he displayed was just smooth skin, the lotion applied earlier helped that. Surely, he was a sexual marvel to behold, and it was perhaps funny that the stripper was the one touching himself while his benefactor undressed this time.

 

            Aizen eyed the provocative posture of his entertainment and smiled approvingly. "What happened to that less attractive sullen mood from earlier, my dear Skiy? Has it evaporated?" he asked, walking away from the couch with his loosened clothing. Over the back of a chair he tossed his rich branded clothing, piece by piece.

 

            Grimmjow traced the veins on his girthy and long member with his fingertips, "Does it matter what happened to it if ya didn't like it in the first place?" He noticed Aizen removing a metallic case from under the couch and became a little bit wary.

 

            Listening to the answer, Aizen moved, completely nude, back to the couch with the case at his side. "Excellent point. I prefer this excitable side of you infinitely more anyway, my precious Skiy." Aizen smiled and flipped the top of the case up before setting it open and his coiled belt on the couch beside Grimmjow. Aizen himself didn’t sit down yet. The rich man ignored the two things that he’d brought over and instead knelt down and leaned over Grimmjow's lap to get between the stripper's legs.

 

            Grimmjow stayed calm and ignored the case and the belt because he was sure that they were full of Aizen’s bondage toys as usual.

 

            Meanwhile Aizen savored the foreplay, going down on the sizable erection at his entertainment’s groin and actually pleasuring Grimmjow for a change of pace.

 

            Grimmjow's head had fallen back against the backrest of the plush couch, he groaned with an open mouth and made sure that the man between his legs could hear _everything_ , including his heavy breathing. Ichigo... The cute orange haired young man crept back into his thoughts and Grimmjow envisioned Ichigo blowing him in Aizen's stead. The fantasy of a tangerine head bobbing between his legs with sucking and moaning sound carried on for a long few minutes. Pretending that it was Ichigo made this a lot better, even though he was unconsciously prone to fantasizing something like that. Grimmjow didn’t try very hard to bring up the fantasy, it just happened. These minutes would have lasted much longer but Grimmjow's head rolled to one side with his eyes open and the sight of what was in the case next to him struck him like a lead pipe. While Aizen maintained giving him head, and seemingly didn't notice that Grimmjow wasn't reacting with the same fervor, the horrified entertainer studied the case's contents in dim light. Therein lay six clear packages all labeled '2 lbs' in sharpie with printed emblems, the Caduceus symbol, on the surfaces of the plastic bags. Next to the sharpie numbers for weight each had a papery label with thin black writing. On the labels were printed the words: 'Order 9866 - Diacetylmorphine', 'Order 9867 - Morphine Sulfate', and 'Order 9868 - Benzoylmethylecgonine' in easily legible red lettering. Off to the side he counted three smaller brown glass bottles with liquid in them that had the same labels as the bags on their lids without the order numbers. Next to those were syringes. Those were more drugs than Grimmjow was ok with and because of that his previously planned inquisition, to learn more about Aizen's visit to his hospital room, was now of significantly less concern. Grimmjow felt himself swallow something almost impassable. To most people these long compound names were confusing, but to someone who’d seen and heard them before because of the club scene he worked in Grimmjow knew what they meant. Diacetylmorphine, heroin. Morphine sulfate, or just morphine, and popular benzoylmethylecgonine, cocaine. Four pounds of each... That a _fucking_ lot of drugs.

 

            "My sweet Skiy, what _is_ the matter with you tonight?" Aizen was sitting up straight massaging the shaft of his entertainer’s less hard member while gazing up. The dancer’s erection had gone down and bit and he’d looked up to see why. The brunette followed Grimmjow’s gaze. So he'd _finally_ noticed...

 

            There were a few levels of risk which didn't make Grimmjow’s blood roll with unusually strong lust... _This_ right here was one of them. Stricken into a sort of shock Grimmjow's eyes snapped to Aizen's. "The fuck do ya think?!" Twelve pounds of medicinal _drugs_...not counting the already dissolved amounts in bottles. The stiffness of shock didn't last for long, panic took over.

 

            "Not so loud, my dear. Why are you so unsettled, Skiy? You've never been this surprised with my use of aids before. These particular drugs aren't even uncommon."

 

            “Ya can’t bring this kinda shit here.”

 

            “Skiy-“

 

            "Ya can't bring this around here," Grimmjow reiterated, his tone had changed. This was the real Grimmjow panicking and being stern toward his benefactor. He was scared, fucking scared out of his mind. Seeing about half million dollars in drugs laid out next to him was easily enough to accomplish that.

 

            "Grimm dear, I've brought you many treats in the past. Why do you choose now to be so upset?" Despite the blue haired dancer's outrage Aizen was still maintaining his cool, as though this situation were nothing extraordinary.

 

            "One hit isn’t shit compared to this. Ya never snuck in this much before or I would have complained." Grimmjow snapped, appalled at the amount more than the identities of the compounds. "Twelve pounds of drugs, what do ya fuckin’ think we’re gonna do? Share all of this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind," he continued to snap defensively, "...and _what_ did ya just call me?"

 

            There was a long pause. "You calculated those amounts in your head _that_ quickly? I'm impressed Skiy. You're a natural mathematician."

 

            That was not even tough math... Someone was patronizing him. Grimmjow scowled.

 

            Aizen leaned over one of Grimmjow's thighs and reached for the bottles. He took one out after another and calmly filled one syringe at a time with each drug through their caps.

 

            Grimmjow moved away from the other man sitting further away on the couch. "Don't change the subject," he resumed. He watched Aizen carefully.

 

            "My goodness you are testy this evening... You are my beautiful _Skiy_. What else would I call you but your name? Any other rose by that name would not taste so sweet," the brunette charmed while compressing the air out of a syringe.

 

            "Whatever," Grimmjow skeptically grumbled. "Get rid of those, right now."

 

            "You mean dispose of them? That seems a brash course of action considering their expensive worth." He continued to prepare the other two regardless.

 

            "Ya know what I meant. Go take 'em out to your frickin' Lincoln and leave 'em there. We’re not fucking until ya do."

 

            Grimmjow had remembered what kind of car he drove? That genuinely struck the brunette as strange. Aizen had no idea that Grimmjow’s memory was in part geared toward cars. From the three filled syringes Aizen selected the one with liquefied cocaine. "Do you remember what I mentioned earlier...?" Aizen mentioned sounding a little irritated. "It's just Ichimaru, you Skiy, and myself. No one else will see so the rules don’t matter." The brunette picked up the coiled belt off of the couch and slipped its end through the buckle to make a loop, "...and...my dear Skiy...was that an _order_ you just gave me?"

 

            Grimmjow ignored the peeved rhetorical question. "Twelve fuckin' pounds of drugs. This is not ok with me and do ya have any idea what would happen if someone caught us back here with that?"

 

            "I would imagine you would have a fair share in the blame." Aizen tried to soothe the exotic man by reaching out and stroking his forearm. Shockingly Grimmjow smacked the hand off. Azien frowned. "How about this Skiy... If you agree to indulge with me in _one_ hit I will ask Ichimaru to take the drugs we won't be using back to my vehicle. Alright?"

 

            In his gut Grimmjow could feel his heart thundering. He imagined if he ever leaked the word 'drugs' and the name 'Sosuke Aizen', a very reputable one, to any paper or the police that it would mean a huge scandal. Grimmjow knew that Aizen understood this and would not want a scandal, but what guaranteed Aizen that he wouldn’t talk after this. Grimmjow's nervous blue eyes watched the syringe and his brows furrowed together about the fishiness of this deal.

 

            The fact that Grimmjow had continued to stare him down and hadn’t said a word spoke volumes. "My, my. Sweet Skiy, I don't believe I've _ever_ seen you so cross about using drugs before. Please don't be so angry with me, I was only trying to have a bit of fun at my age." Aizen moved over sitting beside Grimmjow and swept the dancer's half-head of cerulean tresses into an attractive disorder. His other hand was holding the belt and syringe still. "I am a man of my word, say 'yes' and I will speak with Ichimaru. I do not want to upset you."

 

            The only thing that was really keeping Grimmjow here was the idea that if he pissed this guy off too much that his medical fees would come back; he wouldn’t have a life if they did. That was so much money. Glancing first to the bags, light cast over their plastic surfaces, Grimmjow carefully thought this through. It was true that he tolerated drugs in small doses for Aizen...but there was just something very different about this instance. Something extremely sour. Grimmjow crossed his ankles and arms; his hard-on had reduced itself to its flaccid length again. "Talk to squinty first or no deal."

 

            "Alright, alright. I will do so immediately." Aizen leaned closer to kiss Grimmjow on the cheek. The exotic entertainer twisted away. "Oops, silly me I forgot." Aizen lifted up one of Grimmjow's hands up and kissed its back. "There." As Aizen stood up again off of the couch he ran his fingertips along Grimmjow's angular jaw. "Have some faith. I'll go retrieve Mister Ichimaru, don't wander off, hmm?"

 

            Gin was already leaning against the open way to the alcove of the suite that he'd disappeared through about a half-hour ago. He'd been at this place since Grimmjow had started making a scene about the drugs. "Boss, don't bother lookin'."

 

            "Oh! Must I repeat the request then?" Aizen was only slightly surprised to see Gin already standing there.

 

            "Request?" The grey haired man scratched his head, "Ya know how it's instinct ta look up when ya hear yer name. I only heard that part, wasn't listenin' very carefully," he lied. "Was a little preoccupied, bein' _bored_."

 

            "Come now Gin, Grimmjow isn't familiar with you and I was only trying to help him settle in before turning you lose."

 

            There it was _again_... Grimmjow swallowed a lump in his throat. _‘So I didn't mishear it before...’_ he considered to himself. This situation was really rotten all over.

 

            "So," Aizen got the entertainer’s and Gin’s full attention, "here I am fulfilling _my_ end of _our_ deal." Aizen faced his accomplice standing by the alcove’s entrance. "Gin would you please take this case out to my car?"

 

            The shadowy form of the squinty eyed man grinned and spat his vengeful answer out in Grimmjow's face from a distance, he looked at the blue haired man too. "No."

 

            Aizen promptly shrugged and looked to Grimmjow, "Well that's that." Aizen tossed the belt onto the couch beside his entertainment. "Take this one first," Azien instructed and held out the syringe with cocaine loaded in it. "It'll bring your erection back up as I see it's gone down no doubt from this fretting. Use that belt as a tourniquet, and if you can't find a vein I am more than happy to assist."

 

            The expectance air on this rich man was staggeringly gross. Disbelieving of what had just transpired, Grimmjow listened with dead ears and a shocked expression. He could barely piece together what Aizen had said after hearing Ichimaru's answer. What the fuck did Aizen think that this deal was anyway? Sexual harassment he would tolerate, nearly half of the people he gave his body to had sadistic tendencies, but Aizen has literally just fucked him on their deal and Grimmjow didn’t want to do this anyway. “What the fuck that wasn’t the deal at all.”

 

            Aizen shook his head. “Skiy, don’t make me wait.”

 

            “Hold on...” he snapped at Aizen, “’No’. Why the fuck not?” Grimmjow snapped next at Gin, looking directly at the snaky man.

 

            Gin barely caught Grimmjow's head turning in the shade of the room, but the blue eyes were easier to see looking at him and it was safe to assume that the question was directed at him. "Why not _what_ , blue-chan?" Gin taunted.

 

            "Why won't ya take the case out to the fuckin' car?" Grimmjow growled.

 

            Gin answered smugly, "Because I don't feel like it and it's cold outside. Winter's almost 'ere don't ya know?"


	24. Say 'When'...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: heavy drug use themes, non-con/rape themes (if you have difficulty with rape you should NOT read this, warning has been given), sex, nudity, violence

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

_“_ _Say ‘When’…”_

 

 

            Something felt like it had snapped in Grimmjow's head. That lazy son of a bitch. _‘Don't rely on other people, just do things yourself...’_ It really felt like the only way. "Fuck this, _I'll_ take it outside." Grimmjow began to get up. He’d do it butt-fucking-naked if it got that case of drugs and the possibility of having to try all of those drugs out of here.

 

            "Skiy, that wasn't our deal," a pushy Aizen reminded him in a testy voice.

 

            Whipping his unsettled eyes toward the brunette Grimmjow growled, "So _now_ ya wanna be fair? Play by the rules?"

 

            Azien calmly stared back, “It is only a game that we play and I believe you are overreacting to a minor element of it.”

 

            The exotic man continued to argue, shaking his head, “No- No, this is not part-“

 

            Aizen interrupted, “Then why have you never rejected this strongly before now?”

 

            At a loss for words toward Aizen’s point Grimmjow turned his blue glare to Gin, "What would make ya say 'yes', ya little shit?"

 

            Ichimaru's 'answer' was quick, "I wanna fuck 'im first."

 

            "Fine," Grimmjow replied, agreeing quickly. It would be a small sacrifice for a worthy cause. He’d had sex with people for less reason than this before.

 

            Aizen cut in. "That is not your right to decide, Skiy," he informed with a voice that wasn't threatening so much as chillingly cold in its impliable nature.

 

            Thrown into a bit more panic over a losing situation Grimmjow snapped them, "What the fuck?! It's my goddamn body, I'll lend it out to whomever I choose!" Ferocity of the entertainer’s growing aggressive temperament was beginning to melt away his charm. He was peeved and insulted by what Aizen thought he had a right to say and he no longer seemed to care whether he was doing his job properly by playing his role. Being that would have meant keeping his thoughts tucked away from the start and indulging in whatever he was given to do.

 

            Looking on at the amusing sight of Grimmjow's barely illuminated but rigid features, Ichimaru overlooked Grimmjow's plight entirely. "What'd ya think, Aizen-sama? Could I have the first go at 'im?"

 

            Aizen looked at Grimmjow whose body language communicated unease and outrage; two white knuckled fists clenched on either side of their entertainment’s strong hips weren't going to waver his final decision. "That would be entirely improper seeing as I am the one who pays for his indulgence and company."

 

            As he was discussed Grimmjow gritted his molars together and in a huff pulled up his onyx shorts. The elastic material snapped slightly as he let either side go simultaneously. His aim was to get out of here, he expected a bit of resistance; he’d push through it.

 

            "Just where do you think you're going?" the brunette, who was still watching Grimmjow, cooed as he took a step closer to the dancer's position.

 

            Grimmjow tried not display that the step toward him by the naked rich man made him feel a little intimidated, but he was by no means helpless and he would defend himself however necessary. "I ain't gonna risk my life _and_ my job over your stupid fantasies anymore," the he asserted, jabbing one pointed index finger in Aizen's direction. "I am tired of these drugs being something ya always pressure me into, and I am tired of feeling like I ain’t got a choice whether I take them or not." No doubt that his furrowed brows, and the unusual scowl across his thin lips, looked eerie in the candle-glow lighting. Grimmjow snatched up Aizen's belt from where it rested near the case and walked forward…

 

            Aizen took a warry step backward.

 

            Gin’s posture tensed up.

 

            Grimmjow didn’t swing the belt, he stopped and shoved it into Aizen's hands with force. He felt the other man teeter backward from the contact, hands coming up to hold the belt as the entertainer let go harmlessly but asserted his physical strength. In a most appropriate way Grimmjow wanted Aizen to know that he wasn’t afraid to push back.

 

            "You're going to leave without fulfilling your contract then?" Aizen asked this question with an utterly pompous air, staring Grimmjow in the eye as the fiercely upset man stared back. It was a wonder if the rich man really realized that he’d been spared assault by mercy, or if Aizen valued mercy at all.

 

            Grimmjow swallowed the last bit of his blind tolerance to make room for an iron clad resolve. His brilliantly blue eyes paused for a moment, to study the deep brown color of Aizen's gaze. "I got just two words for ya," he was face to face with a wealthy and powerful force, but he wasn't going to just allow that to chain him to this situation any longer. Money be damned. Debts be damned. Danger be damned. It had been enough. "Contract breached." The exotic man sidestepped, turning his attention away from those brown orbs for what he intended to be the last time looking into them, and stormed around the wealthy trick he'd been turning for some two or so odd years – long enough to properly call Aizen a benefactor of his. It was weird...this quickly paced decision almost felt like dismissing a treacherous friend who had finally shown their true colors and betrayed him.

 

            "Those weren't the words I was expectin'," Gin remarked with a snicker.

 

            The words were true enough though; a signed contract between every client and prostitute or entertainer which H.E.X. utilized mentioned several things as legitimate breaches resulting in non-punishable release from the agreement. The blue haired man felt confident that these legal details would hold up. Not a moment after Grimmjow's long fingertips took their hold on the handle of a shoji door, Aizen strode up behind the mostly naked man and hooked his belt around Grimmjow’s thick neck. Paperbacked confidence in their contract was flimsy protection, and it crumpled. The leather of the belt closed off the wide-eyed dancer's access to oxygen and made him gasp and gag. Grimmjow's hands rapidly came away from the door and pried at the offensive leather strap in a panic as he struggled. Realizing that he'd placed himself in a grave amount of danger Grimmjow quickly identified his error... he should have walked out sooner. Likened to a bartender, perhaps Klayton, who asked how much to pour into a glass the magic words were 'just say 'when'...'. When have you had enough? Klayton always listened for the signal; Grimmjow hadn’t listened to himself closely enough. He should have stopped sooner. _'Just say when...'_ Those words' sound resonated as Grimmjow fought for his next breath. His glass was overfilled and spilling out onto the bar top counter. …should have stopped sooner… Unfortunately it was past too late now; Grimmjow would have to really fight for his freedom out of this. The strong man burned his strength by slamming Aizen against walls and every piece of furniture in the isolated room and pulling on the belt. Grimmjow’s strength was running out quickly though because he wasn’t in the best of conditions anyway.

 

            The slim eyed Ichimaru watched this scene for quite some time, doing nothing, until Grimmjow had been exhausted and stopped stumbling around with Aizen. It occurred to Gin that kicking the enemy while he was weary was optimal now, so after striding over to the breathless pair Gin struck Grimmjow in the sternum with a boney fist and Aizen retreated to catch his own breath as their entertainment doubled over in pain.

 

            Grimmjow almost couldn’t believe that he wasn’t strong enough to beat Aizen. The cerulean haired dancer wheezed and dropped to his knees, belt falling from his thick neck. He gasped loudly for air and coughed. With a hollow 'clonk', that he hardly noticed, it landed upon the bare wooden floor.

 

            Having caught their breath now, both perpetrators seized this moment of utter weakness and cooperatively they drug Grimmjow across the room and laid him down on the long couch. Gin kneeled over the handsome fellow to hold him down against the cushions and Aizen held down one of Grimmjow’s arms separately. The case of drugs was a bit off from Grimmjow’s position, otherwise he might have tried to knock it over.

 

            "How about ya try fightin' me fairly?" Grimmjow snapped, immediately starting to yank and jerk around to get his tired limbs back as they were forced against the soft material.

 

            "I don't see a reason ta." Gin leaned forward and dangled his tongue over the captive's face.

 

            The approaching droplet of spit from the snake's tongue angered Grimmjow and he sucked in a breath before he headbutted Gin without much of a second thought. The grey haired man howled in agony when he was forced to bite down hard on his tongue and reeled back, covering his mouth. Quickly Grimmjow used his newly freed form to pull his arm away and brutally bash Aizen in the head with a fist next. Not waiting Grimmjow wound up for a second hit.

 

            Aizen yelled in pain, stunned for the moment.

 

            Trying to lap up some blood he could feel rolling over his lips, Gin realized that Aizen needed his help. Grimmjow was really fighting back with a renewed and unnatural fervor for a winded man, and his superior was barely holding up against it. Sweat dripped from their faces.

 

            Trickling in to mingle with Aizen's sweat were now the traces of gleaming red blood drops.

 

            Gin leapt to restrain the wildly upset entertainer once again.

 

            Before Grimmjow could land a second consecutive blow Gin was upon him once more. Punched and then nabbed by the waist and slung back into the backrest of the sofa Grimmjow coughed at the unexpectedly strong force which had thrown him up against a hard spot of the couch.

 

            Gin forcefully perched on Grimmjow’s lap to keep him sitting there and held his shoulders back.

 

            Swallowing masculine pride in this hopeless and painful situation Grimmjow knew once Aizen wiped the blood off of his face he would have _both_ of them to deal with again. It was hopeless to fight this one alone and expect to be the victor. " _HELP!_ " Grimmjow screamed out before Ichimaru hit him in the face. The blow struck him hard. Grimmjow groaned about his pain and would have covered his bloodied nose with both hands but his arms were leaden and his shoulders were being held down. The exotic man’s head throbbed as his thoughts jumbled from the blow and rolling amounts of panic. “HEEEELP- Ugh!” Gin punched him again and this time Grimmjow coughed and his head slumped. He could feel blood rolling down over his mouth and dripping onto his chest and lap. Streams formed by conjoined crimson droplets soaked his inner thighs and the onyx material of his shorts. The fabric would be secretly and indefinitely stained with as much of that blood as his body let flow. For these moments of staggering pain and worry Grimmjow was just too dazed to react further than leaving his bowing head down to watch the falling droplets soak his proud length with their red morbidity.

 

            A pained smile spread across Aizen's lips as he pressed his chemical scarred palm against the damaged side of his own head. "You could have had a staggering amount of fun with us if only you hadn't been so unpredictably aggressive tonight." A barely recovering Grimmjow looked up hearing words and tried to spit the blood that was trickling over his lips in Aizen's face but his aim was a little off. The brunette sighed as he ended up wiping reddish saliva from his neck and licking the fluids from his hand.

 

            Summing up his nerves Grimmjow bellowed one last time, " _HELP!_ AGH!" and was struck again in the sternum, silencing his ability to cry out anymore because he was just too short of breath. He sputtered and blood splattered onto Gin, who smacked him for making a mess. The smack was rather dazing.

 

            Ichimaru formed a fist to strike once again and struck Grimmjow in the throat.

 

             Letting out a hacking sound Grimmjow’s face dropped as he gasped and struggled to breath with his face toward his lap. He was only able to try and get his breath back right now. It almost felt like that jab had crushed his windpipe which felt tight and uncomfortable. His nose stung with aching bolts of discomfort and he was unwilling to inhale through it, uncomfortably breathing in wheezes through his mouth. This really hurt, a lot. What had he ever done to deserve this situation? What the fuck was bad enough to be deserving of this...? Was this what he got for being a sex worker? Was this even fair? Unable to do much else Grimmjow began to wonder as he momentarily gave up his struggle for freedom to gather any meager strength that he could. It felt like there was nothing left.

 

            Aizen took up his belt and synched it around Grimmjow's left bicep, pulling it very tight. It was easy to see the veins in Grimmjow's ACs, they bulged and cast shadows, but would the man hold still long enough?

 

            By the point in time when Grimmjow was coherent enough to even entertain the idea of struggling again by his meager gathered energy Aizen had already inserted a needle into his bulging arm. A mixture of cocaine and heroin was pumped into the entertainer’s bloodstream, though he had no idea which of the drugs he was just given. Panic made the drugs spread faster. Grimmjow started to thrash as soon as the needle was withdrawn but the substance took just ten seconds to apply its affects. This speedball's kick was merciless. The massive muscle which composed his back tensed as Grimmjow hunched over, curling into himself to weather the abrupt rush of sensation. Gin backed off a tad so that he wouldn’t be struck… Persistently reminding himself to breathe, Grimmjow’s eyes squeezed shut and he began to groan, clawing at himself. What loathsome thing this strange and overwhelming euphoria was. Grimmjow gave it his damnedest to resist the way the drugs attempted to seduce him by lifting his anxiety and stress away and creating a buzzing and pleasurable numbness – the gateway to the rest of their effects.

 

            For the moments when the cerulean haired man was mostly incapacitated from the shock, Gin laid Grimmjow flat against the couch, sitting on the man's chest to keep him where he was. He ran a cold hand over Grimmjow’s cheek, admiring the candlelit suffrage that was dazed Grimmjow's expression of helplessness. The grey haired man cast a glance at Aizen, "Are ya gonna fuck 'im or what?" He wanted his turn to come soon, while he was still feeling the excitement from the struggle.

 

            "Hold onto him, I have a final shot to give him yet."

 

            The thin man's silvery eyes cracked open a little bit. There was morphine in the chamber of that syringe Aizen had gathered. The third drug, but the administration of this kind of drug along with the others was… "Bumpin' another depressant with a stimulant could kill 'im," Gin warned, only slightly concerned. After all, he wanted to fuck a strapping man, not sheath his penis in a limp corpse. "Even people who don't use drugs could figure that."

 

            "It won't kill him if I administer half of the normal dose, which is what I have here. We need this to keep him from howling and this will do the trick."

 

            "Should'a brought oxy... That would'a worked better."

 

            "We need to work with what we have, Mister Ichimaru," Aizen stated matter-of-factly.

 

            Both men were distracted when Grimmjow moaned and rolled his head around, trying to cope with the spikes in the sensation charging around in his body. He felt like a crazed animal. His impulses and nerves were popping and raging but his body felt so heavy. Grimmjow made hazy note of Gin pinning his arm down again and Aizen closing in with a third needle. There was nothing he could do. The addition of morphine took only a moment or two to kick in. Suddenly Grimmjow felt like he was trapped under a pile of cinderblocks. The strange yet enjoyable sensations tickling his nerves continued; the world warped. His breathing became so faint that he needed to focus to keep it going, what little focus he had. Grimmjow stared at the unlit light fixture over them and wondered how long this horrible event was going to last. What if he died while he was laying there? The exotic man could feel his heartrate lowering steadily. Was this…was this it? It was so strange and so uncomfortable. He wanted to peel off his own skin, to pull out what felt like ice in his viens, yet at the same time he felt like he could fly or split into two…absurd things like that.

 

            Breathing became just a little easier when Ichimaru got off of his chest. He watched the man move with a lazy and glossed-over tilt of his head. A sensible question came into the inebriated man’s thoughts, _'Am I gonna die?'_ Entranced and incapacitated Grimmjow watched as both men changed positions under the obstructing veil of the room’s candle-glow. _‘Am I gonna die?!’_ Aizen knelt down between his legs but Grimmjow couldn't pick his head up to follow. He already knew what was going to happen and a few seconds later hardened flesh charged into Grimmjow’s body. The entertainer’s nerves began to roll around, prickling and trying again to seduce him into perceiving this differently, like it was something that should feel good. That didn’t entirely work. Feeling himself being bouncing slightly with each shove of the hardened shaft, Grimmjow couldn't tell himself to close his slightly gaping mouth... He couldn't command himself to get up...or to push Aizen off yet…but he also couldn't stop thinking... _‘Am I really gonna die...?’_ Grimmjow thought about the fact that if he gave up he might never see the most precious thing to grace his life ever again. He couldn't stand that idea as it crossed his hazed mind. Grimmjow poured every ounce of his remaining coherence and strength into one leg, which he used to blindly kick at the brunette. He wasn't sure how hard or where he'd hit, all he'd felt was the slap of skin and he saw Aizen tumble over onto the floor and felt the shoving into his body stop. Grimmjow’s head was buzzing as the room swayed and warped in front of his eyes.

 

            Gin smirked as Grimmjow promptly fell off the couch too. The slim man hadn’t made a move to help his superior yet.

 

            Shaking horribly Grimmjow brought himself up to his knees then made an attempt to stand.

 

            He liked to watch Grimmjow try… The observing grey haired man let the blue haired entertainer get to his feet then slammed his heel into the side of Grimmjow's knee.

 

            The dancer didn't shriek as any other person might, all he felt was one of his knees give out and then Grimmjow's stance wobbled and his arms went out to try and balance himself on anything nearby but he fell to the floor anyway without being able to find anything to keep himself upright. Hitting the floor didn’t feel like anything either, just bare contact and then the room was spinning again.

 

            Meanwhile Aizen, after being kicked, finished writhing and pounding his fist against the ground and huffily picked himself up and took notice of Gin's work and Grimmjow incapacitated once again. Was the entertainer really down for the count this time? They’d thought they’d put him out several times before…and hadn’t. The frustrated brunette growled with an angry need for vengeance and whirled around to seize both Grimmjow's ankles, dragging the man into him.

 

            Standing above the inebriated blue haired male Gin and the equally as wounded Aizen exchanged looks. "Ya going finish fuckin’ 'im already or _what_?" Gin insisted, watching Grimmjow like this aroused him, but that lust would not trample over Aizen's plans...unless Gin wanted to find himself a new high-paying job. Gin patiently waited for his turn.

 

            "I will say this _just_ once before I rip this nervy cur a new cunt… If in the event that he stops breathing before we are finished with him...we pick up our things, straighten the room and leave him and the needles behind. We'll clean them and smear his fingers all over them. Club security will think that he overdosed and we will never speak of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez or ‘Skiy’ ever again. Am I crystal clear?"

 

            "They're gonna notice that he's got a busted nose."

 

            "Skiy may be unique but the matter of fact is that he's still an expensive whore. A drug-abusing one isn't uncommon but they are clumsy. We will just have to leave him belly-down so that they assume he fell on his face or something the like." In a way it bothered Aizen to admit that their fun might kill Grimmjow…but something that he didn’t allow to seep into the words was that he held doubt for the blue haired man’s fate to end him here.

 

            Gin slowly nodded, clicking his tongue as he looked over the heaving body under his boss. In a minute Grimmjow was much more still than before… The cerulean haired man hardly moved now.

 

            "Wonderful." Aizen sniffed and wiped at a trickle of blood coming from the side of his head. "Now since you have finished with your nay-say, let's resume our business."

 

            Flipped face up on the hard floor the handsome, feeble dancer tried focusing his thoughts on the swaying objects overhead to keep from blacking out.

 

            Aizen retook full advantage of Grimmjow’s inability to defend himself with no hesitance. Roughly he lined his cock's tip up and shoved it back into Grimmjow. Aizen didn’t give any kindness in this rough play; it was so arousing to watch such a gorgeous man be this helpless.

 

            Ichimaru stood idly beside the scene observing as his superior bucked mercilessly.

 

            Grimmjow clenched his ass, he didn’t want this! The force grinding his shoulder blades and spine into the hard floor was barely past getting started though. "STOP!" a flustered Grimmjow yelled with a cracking voice amidst groans out of strange sensations and gasps. "Agh!" He was kicked in the side of his neck by Gin. He coughed coarsely, and remained limp, unable to judge what his arms were doing at the moment. Probably just lying on the floor. The affects of the drugs felt like it was coming and going.

 

            "Hush," the grey haired man said bitterly. "Ya deserve what yer gettin'."

 

            Aizen panted over the limp, sweating body of his plaything. What a night, this was such a thrill...! His gorgeous obsession’s body felt even more satisfying than usual, being tighter from resistance and hotter in temperature. Grimmjow's expression tonight was especially delicious - embarrassment mixed with fright and a dash of lusty euphoria. Grimmjow’s thick cock was even up, but Aizen didn't touch it.

 

            After as much effort as he could manage resisting with Grimmjow's arms finally began to move and came up to try to push Aizen off; they were _easily_ swatted away.

 

            "Gin...he needs...another hit...the cocaine please. That syringe...that one right there..." the sweaty, lustful brunette continued to pant as his nails dug into the hips of his captive. "He is rousing...and I do not...want him...to be...coherent. He'll just...try fighting us again. We do not need that." Sweat droplets from his body rolled down and dripped onto Grimmjow's writhing, sculpted body; an 'object' he'd been regularly paying to appropriate for himself. A possession for rent...just a possession which he obsessed over. Aside from his Skiy's face, one part of this which Aizen _especially_ took pleasure in watching, was the shadowed movement of the man’s weakened muscles, which tensed and flexed with a lack of their usual vigor but still moved slightly showcasing their sloping and curved shapes.

 

            Gin shook his head at the disagreeable plot, "We'll kill 'im for sure if he gets any more," but remained standing to watch the smutty scene without considering to offer Grimmjow any empathetic assistance.

 

            "Get the needle...and administer it... _now_ , or you will _not_ get...a turn," Aizen hissed as he slammed into his immobilized quarry even harder. It was enjoyable to watch the blue haired entertainer cringe and uselessly tried to twist and free himself. Aizen would have carried on uninterrupted but Grimmjow was inexplicably _still_ able to move and resist and the blue haired man suddenly tried to evasively pull his hips away. "Mister Ichimaru!" Aizen snapped, demanding that Gin follow his orders while forcing the limp back of the dancer against the floor again after Grimmjow's failed tactic. Cleaving to Grimmjow’s long and smooth legs after the man on the floor gave that up the chestnut haired male resumed his ritual which was starting to make Grimmjow resist less as it probably tired the man out. For the moment avidly carrying on the sex seemed to work well enough to keep his lust-stricken and inebriated whore sprawled across the floor.

 

            Displeased to have to remove his focus from them for even an instant, Gin picked up the proper syringe from where it had fallen during the struggle. He took a moment to fill it again then examine the liquid in the chamber. He stepped around the rutting pair and pinned one of Grimmjow's wrists to the floor with his knee. He watched as the man's bicep and forearm flex and tried to slide away. Its effort was fruitless.

 

            Be it lack of will or strength that kept him down now this unfortunate soul’s senses were unsure of just how much more of this he could handle without exploding from the overload on his senses. Feeling the light prick from a needle amidst his more immediate pains, Grimmjow's attention went all to the injection site. His blurry vision picked up the last of the liquid being ejected from the syringe. He waited a moment to feel the drug's effect but when it didn't come the clenching of his teeth softened. Huffing his breaths while being jostled around by Aizen, Grimmjow's blue eyes traveled up to study what he could see of the thin man's solemn or pouting expression.

 

            Gin gave him a poisonous stare, and suddenly raised one of his long boney fingers in front of his extremely thin lips. 'Shh' he seemed to say.

 

            Grimmjow was on the verge of losing his consciousness especially now that he thought he understood what Gin had done. He really thought he knew... While watching the meager man his vision flickered. Soon after Gin moved into the shade of the room, vanishing from sight, Grimmjow's eyes closed and the back of his head hit the floor. His body went utterly limp...his mouth felt so dry. _'I won't die...I won't...not yet...not yet...please don't take me so soon...'_ Grimmjow wasn't unconscious now but he had lost touch completely with his world. Even his sight was becoming grainy with both eyes reopened. Finally his terrified speculations faded and his mind became calm; his entire self was utterly surrendered to uselessness and perfect numbness. Grimmjow's body gifted him with uncanny relief from his oppressors. He was awake, savagely being raped, but he heard nothing, saw nothing, knew nothing, and felt nothing. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez had never known such absence to 'grace' his existence...

 

            Were he more coherent perhaps he would have feared it...

 

~

 

            "Hey!" An echoing voice sounded, a gentle hand patted against Grimmjow's shoulder. Well it was gentle at first...it turned into a reasonably painful smack across the face a minute later which caused the groggy man's body to jerk. "Hello~o?"

 

            Grimmjow blindly slapped away the hand which had done the smacking. Pest... Who the hell...? His eyes cracked open and the entertainer came to realize that he was still sprawled out on the floor of the room that Aizen and Ichimaru had taken him to...but those troublesome two were long gone. It was another man kneeling over him now, trying to rouse him. This guy was lanky as hell; Grimmjow squinted a bit to focus on the visage so he could tell if he was really seeing this.

 

            "C'mon, git up already, ya sad sack’a bones." This guy had bounded up the carpeted stairs to the room as soon as the coast had become clear. It had taken a little over an hour to get a conscious reaction from Grimmjow but he was a fairly patient individual. Shamelessly he yawned; it was so late and he was tired as hell. Still, it was necessary to wait by the battered man's side...like a determined dog with its bone. Chewing, chewing, ever chewing. Then slapping! Only once more though, it's not like just one more would do any real damage.

 

            "Cut that out!" Grimmjow barked. The hand close to his face swiftly retreated.

 

            At least he knew this man. Some funky colored blue hair made this particular dancer unmistakable. It was peculiar but he was worried about Grimmjow for one reason or another. Already having checked the rest of the dancer's body for worse signs than bruising and scrapes he was a little skeptical about the other man’s condition; after all, his inspection of the individual was only a glance over. This looming man had a dark underlying feeling which informed him that Grimmjow was in worse shape than surface damage could express, but privacy was privacy, and Grimmjow could have his so long as his chest still rose and fell with breath. He didn't understand what a rare commodity privacy truly was to this man he was trying to aid. A little gentler, not wanted to have his hand batted away again, he would coax the groggy man to sit up. "Ya know yer own name righ’?"

 

            Rubbing one eye, Grimmjow sluggishly responded, "Why the fuck wouldn't I know my own name?" he mumbled, tripping over the pronunciation of his words, just a tad.

 

            "Ya look like road kill...I wasn' sure if yer brain'd been trampled too. I'm jus' bein' thorough an' checkin'."

 

            Grimmjow took in a few deep breaths and spoke again, this time with his usual country-esque accent and better pronunciation, "The fuck ya talkin' about...?"

 

            He sighed when Grimmjow looked up and tried to focus on his face. "Ya know...yer eyes are ridiculously blood-shot. Not ta mention...ya got scrapes an’ red dots from needles all o’er those arms 'a yers..." He pointed to one of Grimmjow's limbs, and there were indeed many, _many_ small red dots under his bicep and up the length of his forearm. "...yer really a mess pal."

 

            So, Grimmjow was back from the brink of death, and back to his regularly scheduled worries and issues with life..! The facts took a moment to sink in. It was good that this guy wasn't the type to make a scene by notifying the security guards or talking to a manager, namely Szayel. Pinkie would have been a shade of angry one would have to witness from such a neatly tailored person to believe if he ever found out that one of his prized entertainers was such an obvious mess. That was a possibility worthy of cringing at. Grimmjow vaguely gave thought to the only other possibility that would have awaited him if his condition had proved life-threatening. If his rescuer hadn't sought aid then...when Grimmjow knew full well that he wouldn't have survived. Had this stranger just _hoped_ that he would wake, or did he know a thing or two? Grimm began shivering, achy or queasy feelings churned around every organ within his body's separate cavities. Flexing his fingers to bring back their feeling Grimmjow noticed, or remembered, that his pair of sturdy bondage bracers, which he'd been wearing, weren't on his person. Harsh blackish marks now replaced where they would have been fastened. As a matter of fact, Grimmjow had dark bruises in so many places that he could spot them quickly without his vision even steadying itself. Szayel would really be fuming over his body being damaged again so soon... There wasn't a chance that his flamingo haired caretaker wouldn't inquire about what the damage had come from. Reprimand or censure were the gloomy results Grimmjow predicted, censure he preferred.

 

            The spindly man, who intended to rescue Grimmjow, extended a hand as he stood up to help. He got the wobbly and shivering dancer back on his feet. "Man... Ya can't even stand properly," he noted offering his shoulder, which Grimmjow accepted and used for support. "Say, do ya remember me? I didn' really meet ya formally bu’ I was wit’ tha' kid, Ichigo; tha' orange haired brat who likes ya."

 

            "Huh?"

 

            "It was tha' night, a few months ago, when ya took Ichigo out fer a drive. He told me a lil’ ‘bout ya...an’ wha’ happened..." There was lingering pause, an awkward moment as one man inspected the other. "Anyway, I'm Nnoitora." He would mention nothing specific to the incident.

 

            In actuality Grimmjow clearly remembered their very brief meeting, though he said nothing to indicate that. The weary blue haired fellow summed up the strength to stand on his own for the few seconds it took Nnoitora to gather his pair of stilettos. His spandex-like shorts had already been pulled up, which must have been this 'Nnoitora' guy's doing. Aizen wouldn't have done him that courtesy, and that other guy - whatever his name was - probably wouldn't have cared to do so either. Grimmjow eagerly changed the subject, "How'd ya know I was up here?"

 

            Nnoitora had snagged a blanket as well as the heels and set about draping it over Grimmjow's shoulders for warmth. "I was comin' back ta this hallway fer some fun after takin' a smoke break when I saw ya go by with those horn-dogs. Ya looked familiar so I jus' waited 'round fer ya after I'd used up my time with the girl I got. Didn' know how long ya would be with 'em but I saw those guys leave without'cha. So...! I went up the stairs ta see if ya were ok. Not like I had anythin' better ta do. You're just lucky ya weren't suffocatin' or somthin' 'cuz ya would'a been outright fucked." Did that mean he wouldn't have gotten help? Nnoitora's ridiculously skinny form, clad in flashy street attire for the evening, was a stronger support beam than one might suspect. They walked cooperatively to the sliding doors. And when there was seemingly total darkness, the rays of mercy came down and bathed the unfortunate… "Ya hurtin' bad anywhere?" the spindly one would ask as he moved aside one door for their exit. It's not like Grimmjow was of a mind to answer. Descending the stairs Nnoitora could feel _every_ time the limber dancer tensed up. Grimmjow's body resonated a solid 'yes' to his last question. "Ya alright..? Wanna stop walkin'?"

 

            No answer. With a serious case of 'noodle-legs' Grimmjow was dead set on not slipping on one of the steps and by far too achy to multitask. Yes, he supposed even dropping single courteous response would mercilessly tax his focus. This was a pristine example of how much pain was offsetting him. Grimmjow shuddered violently at the bottom of the stairs, semen and blood oozed from the cleft of his ass. He said _nothing_ of it; a predicament like this was embarrassing enough...but Nnoitora asked him again if he was alright... Of course he wasn't fucking ok, what a stupid question.

 

            Grimmjow hadn't answered either inquiry so Nnoitora stopped asking and just kept moving. From the hall the dazed dancer shakily pointed out the way to get backstage. People stared as they passed. They tried narrowing their eyes to inspect Grimmjow through the dull light. Any who Nnoitora caught ogling them were given a deathly scowl, which dismissed the majority of onlookers. The gaunt man guided Grimmjow to the short flight of stairs near the backstage door and let the dancer go when the other man reached for the railing. "Can ya walk it on yer own?" Grimmjow seemed so eager to support himself from here, initially having pulled away from a helping hand as soon as the metal railing of the stairs was in reach. Nnoitora could feel the pride gushing from this man as it obviously evaporated. What a terrible mess...

 

            Grimmjow's grip on the railing squeaked. "Yeah thanks." An unusually low feeling began to drag down Grimmjow's heart. That organ felt as if it were sinking into the cold depths of an ocean.

 

            "Ya can thank me with a dance sometime," Nnoitora remarked with a snicker and turned to leave.

 

            Grimmjow couldn't tell if he was serious or not. "Hey!"

 

            "Huh?" Nnoitora took a glance back at the battered dancer, who was clinging - for balance's sake - to the railing anchored into the wall.

 

            "Don't talk to Ichi about this...alright?" Shielding Ichigo from these ugly mishaps was a high priority. He felt no shame in avoiding the truth just as long as it meant that he would never have to lie to Ichigo; that was just how their relationship had to be for now... “P-Please…”

 

            Both eyebrows on the skinny face rose at this almost timid request. "I'll leave the talkin' up ta ya, won't say a damn thing." Scribbling on a stray scrap of paper taken from his jean jacket's pocket Nnoitora wrote out a note. Striding over he tucked the writing into Grimmjow's hand, then stepped back. Men had to hold themselves up on their own two feet to truly repair themselves sometimes; so Nnoitora left Grimmjow to the mercy of his thoughts and borderline agony and sauntered away, saying nothing more. He’d already done what he could.

 

            Grimmjow waited for a moment before he moved. He wanted to make sure that Nnoitora had fully vanished from sight. The scribbled note crinkled in his hand... Grimmjow rapidly hauled himself up the stairs. Through the backstage door he trudged... Mingling with the other prostitutes and dancers in the backstage area Grimmjow could blend in...and now he could retreat to his locker with the note. The pain of bodies and limbs bumping into his sides was great, especially the hips and rear, and he tried to ignore it. If he had one word to describe his trek to the lockers it was 'unforgiving'. Grimmjow stepped up to the wall of lockers, taking just another moment to compose himself before unfolding this note. 'Apartment 56, 7th floor - intersection of Stephen Street & Gale Ave' it read. Grimm knew exactly where that was. Gale was the road that crossed in front of Ichigo's house. Stephen, a major street that cut through the area, crossed about five miles from the kid's house. Employees mostly left the agonizing entertainer alone while he lingered and read. Squinting in the broad lighting of the locker area Grimmjow caught a bit more writing at the bottom, 'btw, deception iz the same as lying'. Grimmjow's heart sank even lower than it had been, this time joined by a pang of jealously.

 

~

 

            The night which was creeping into early morning wasn't quite finished with Grimmjow yet... After showering for the third time tonight and changing out into some of his most casual and comfortable clothing, which he kept in his locker for such lousy evenings, Grimmjow went to the vanity mirrors to inspect his face. Other than an expression of initial disapproval there was an angry gash across the bridge of his nose and a single bruise which covered his entire left cheek. Grimmjow peered at the grim phantasm of himself and quickly made the decision to pull his thick, black jacket's hood up to hide from the world's unkind eyes. He remained there, a shady figure in his sweats for a time longer. If only this were a terrible nightmare. He really wished it was...all made up.

 

            Out in the main room of H.E.X. Grimmjow took up the offer of a drink which his friend the kindly bartender, Klayton, had set out for his claiming earlier and ventured through the main room of the club to H.E.X.'s bar. Grimmjow stood, leaning against the counter, the _entire_ time. His ass hurt too badly to pull up a barstool.

 

            With some effort to mask his concern, Klayton treated Grimmjow almost no differently than he usually did; the long haired drink expert was only a little more kind than crude with his jokes and remarks.

 

            As the bartender poured a mix of orange juice and strong vodka into Grimmjow's glass he _did not_ hesitate to say 'when' as the volume of drink approached a preferred amount. Grimmjow considered many things over that drink as he half-mindedly listened to Klayton talking endlessly about the weird or annoying customers he'd seen that evening, his new girlfriend, and several other casual topics. It didn't seem like Klayton could tell that his audience had their mind's focus nestled in something else. Maybe he just didn't care. No…Klayton cared but he could only do so much… Grimmjow began to wonder about that and other things. Should he hate Aizen for what he'd done? Should he hate his accomplice, Gin? Well Grimmjow found it easier to hate Gin...but not Aizen. Why not Aizen...? Wasn't it natural to despise a man who drugged, beat, and raped you? He swallowed a heavy gulp of his drink.

 

            "If you tell me the last five words I just said I'll give ya a million dollars, Skiy."

 

            Grimmjow's eyes snapped up. So Klayton hadn't been oblivious. "Ya wouldn't have that much to give. Why should I?" he teased back.

 

            "Punk," Klayton retorted with a snort. "You just wish you'd been listening."

 

            "Selective hearin' never seems to work in my favor."

 

            Klayton's broad smile shrunk into a solemn expression, "Aizen stopped by here for a drink before he left," the bartender began, not even trying to be subtle.

 

            "So..? A lot of people like a drink just before they head back to their stupid cubicle lives."

 

            "He dropped these in the trash beside the bar," two fine-leather bondage bracers dropped down against the counter with Klayton's long fingers holding them side by side. This commanded Grimmjow's immediate attention, but the blue orbs didn't seem shocked in the slightest. "Then he insulted me by offering a few ounces of cocaine to pay for his drink."

 

            "And...?" Grimmjow questioned as he took advantage of the jacket's hood to hide his telltale expression.

 

            "I readily refused...in good humor. I have to earn my tips somehow. I prefer cash though. Do you know how he responded to that?" Klayton clicked his tongue, feeling annoyance toward the recollection.

 

            "Nope."

 

            "And I quote, 'Do forgive me, I suppose it's rude to tip a fine barman with substance preferred by whores.'" A hundred dollar bill was pushed toward Grimmjow across the counter. "This should be your tip...not mine."

 

            Appreciative of Klayton’s honesty Grimmjow picked up this bill and held it to the light over their heads. It was real. "Thanks..." He laid the bill down, folding it in half then opening it again... Next, Grimmjow tore it straight in half while Klayton stared, absolutely shocked. “…but I don’t need this.” The entertainer flicked the halves into the trash can where his bracers had been found. He would keep the bracers but not the money. The reason he'd torn up that tip was fuzzy...Grimmjow was only certain of the instinctual fact that it needed to be done.


	25. Family Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: mentions drugs and sex, angst

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

_“_ _Family Dinner”_

 

 

            More than grateful for his father's leniency and overall carefree acceptance of his chosen sexuality this did come with two caveats for Ichigo. First, a _long_ and relatively embarrassing discussion about safe sex. Second, Isshin wanted to meet the lucky stud. They'd quibbled about how and finally agreed on Ichigo inviting him to a family dinner on Friday of the next week...

 

_[The day of the family dinner...]_

            Ichigo fidgeted nervously, hands tapping on the steering wheel of his Mazda6. It was the day of their arranged dinner and not having told his dad - as much as Isshin pried - anything extra about Grimmjow, Ichigo was hoping that his father wouldn't write off the exotic man from the moment he saw Grimmjow. "I'm going to drive now. I left a class, that I actually enjoy, early _just_ to pick you up and we're still going to be late..."

 

            Grimmjow was in the backseat of Ichigo's car hiking up his jeans, buckling his belt, and straitening his nicely planned outfit. "You're the one who decided to jump me and take up s’more time. Not that I minded 'cept I had a perfect look goin' before..." By the tone of his voice it was apparent that Grimmjow really didn't care if he looked _perfect_.

 

            "You still look good," Ichigo refuted.

 

            Grimmjow clumsily climbed into the passenger's seat after he was finished straightening up and gave Ichigo a quick kiss on the cheek. "Done." These cars really weren't made to be climbed around in by grown men, or at least not by someone of his taller build. Grimmjow nudged Ichigo's bookbag to one side of floor then ran his hands over his shirt to smooth it.

 

            Ichigo rolled his eyes, "You sure?"

 

            Next Grimmjow began fussing with his own disheveled hair. "Ya know, I'm gettin' the distinct impression that you're pickin’ on me on purpose, just to tease me."

 

            In truth Ichigo was, even if it was just a little bit. "I just don't want to mess you up," he remarked with sarcasm.

 

            "Ya couldn't." Grimmjow remarked with a hearty laugh. "The only reason I said to wait is because I didn't wanna be climbin' over the seats while you're drivin'. That's actually illegal ya know."

 

            "And you're strictly a law-abiding citizen since when...?" Ichigo snorted, flashing a glance at Grimmjow's tossed cerulean hair. The previous question had obviously been deemed rhetorical, as Grimmjow wasn't given a chance to answer. "Gee, I wish it took me half a minute to fix my hair." That was clearly sarcasm, jabbing at how easily and quickly Grimmjow's half-head of blue waves had been set right. "It seems so effortless but it looks so pleasantly unplanned..."

 

            "Ain't it though?" Grimmjow lowered his arms and paused to give the snarky teenager a sly grin. "Ya know...we _could_ revisit the last half hour when your mouth was busy suckin' not sassin'."

 

            "Very funny, but no thanks. You actually really weren't very mussed after we finished," Ichigo tried to correct; unfortunately because he was anxious Ichigo was becoming less humorous and more sharp and annoyed by the second. "I find it sad that it took you ten minutes to button up your clothes and thirty seconds to comb out your hair."

 

            After giving an uncaring shrug to the sharp criticism Grimmjow's long pointer finger tapped a trimmed nail against the digital clock in the dash, "Not to kill this one-sided critique or anything but it ain't my ass that'll be in trouble if we're more than fashionably late, but keep teasin' for as long as ya like… In theory we _could_ waste another ten minutes-"

 

            "Alright!" he interrupted. With a growl Ichigo started his Mazda and shifted it out of neutral and the vehicle began to creep forward.

 

            "I'm just tryin' to keep ya on track. The least ya could do-"

 

            "I get it, so _shut up_." There came a very awkward silence then… The vehicle circled around the secluded parking lot which Ichigo had found next to an expansive city park. It was a tranquil spot and fairly secluded, but only because in this chilly weather hardly any people wanted to walk around it. The time of day was also late afternoon, the second chilliest part of the day. The grouchy young man navigated to the street they'd come from in silence. Ichigo's driving suffered from his mood.

 

            Grimmjow had noticed his driver slamming the car into gear and turning sharper than was usual for Ichigo. It was unlike him but in this case Grimmjow said nothing of it.

 

            After several minutes while they drove in utter silence Ichigo eventually thought about how harshly he’d talked to Grimm and checked on his companion's mood with a few small glances to his right. Grimmjow was staring out of passenger's window, watching the passing sights outside of the car as they came up and swept past. The exotic man didn't seem very phased after being told to 'shut up' but Ichigo felt guilty for saying it anyway. "You upset?" he coaxed, wondering if the man was as indifferent as he seemed.

 

            "I don't care. There're worse ways to shut someone up."

 

            Ichigo sighed very softly. So Grimmjow really didn't give two shits... That sort of an answer wasn't very comforting though, so Ichigo tried to keep a conversation going. "W-Well...when we get to my house please remember not to mention where you work or what you do. I haven't actually told my dad anything specific about you yet, and if he can at least get past the blue hair I think we'll be fine."

 

            "It's hard to believe ya actually expect not talkin' about it won't make it a topic. He's gonna ask at some point. It's pretty much a common point of interest in conversation." Grimmjow rested his cheek against his fist and the connected elbow against the car door, still staring at the things he saw outside.

 

            "Believe it or not parents don't see prostitutes or pole danc-"

 

            "Strippers," Grimmjow instinctively corrected before returning to silence, “and prostitutes.”

 

            In pause Ichigo licked his lips and took a deep breath to calm himself down before he could blow up again. It was infuriating to be interrupted while trying to make a point. "Whatever the label...parents don't think that persons who make a career out of fucking and taking off their clothes in clubs are good for their children…regardless of how intelligent or charming you appear. That's just how parents work. So… _don't_ mention your job."

 

            It annoyed Grimmjow that Ichigo was talking as though he hadn't any parents to have learned that from... "I'm in the pleasure business. It's who I am and I ain't shy about it so I _am_ gonna tell him the truth when he asks, kid."

 

            Ichigo flashed a soft scowl. "' _If_ '."

 

            "Nuh uh, ' _when_ ', because he _will_ ask," Grimm assured and Ichigo’s scowl deepened. Needless to say Grimmjow was fairly disappointed with Ichigo's evasive tactic. "Hey...I'm sorry but don't give me that look. Ya know what lyin' does when ya meet someone's family? It does no fuckin' good whatsoever." Not that he'd ever gone to meet a family under the terms he was about to meet Ichigo's with, but what the heck… Honesty was supposed to be the best policy, right? Nnoitora's note from a week or so ago had jarred some good sense back into his head. He might as well follow a good piece of advice, even if receiving it had stung. After finally looking over at the driver to be met with Ichigo's unwavering scowl, a bratty expression but cute, a thought had popped into Grimmjow's mind... A tongue, or something a bit larger, would fit nicely between those angry, pursed lips. He forced himself not to grin about the dirty thought running through his mind.

 

            "And you've done this before?"

 

            Grimmjow shook the fantasy from his mind. He'd already been spoiled once today and having Ichigo crash the car because he had an urge was out of the question. "No, but I ain't stupid enough to hope that the truth will stay buried and bet everything on evasion."

 

            "You aren't stupid at all Grimmjow...don't even mention that..." The drive was another ten or fifteen minutes before they reached the Kurosaki house, during the course of which their moods lightened a bit. Though Ichigo's thoughts carried some lament... Once Ichigo pulled up to the curb right in front of his home he turned off the Mazda’s engine. The young man stared toward Grimmjow’s side of the car and out of the window. Ichigo was looking at the metal front gate, wondering about how this introduction would go over.

 

            Not hindered by laments as much as annoyances, Grimmjow reached for the handle to get out of the car. The locking mechanism clicked. He couldn't get out. With a huff of frustrated air Grimmjow let go of the handle and looked back at Ichigo, giving the handsome young man’s face a once over. When he couldn't discern anything from Ichigo's nearly blank expression he spoke up, "What're ya doin'-" within that same second as his voice became audible Grimmjow was flattened, back against the car door, as Ichigo stretched over the dividing console and pushed him back.

 

            "You're such a jerk, getting a little upset when I'm trying to protect you- us, even… I’m only trying to make things easier...can't you see that..?" Ichigo murmured slipping his lips up against his captive's.

 

            From the sudden pounce Grimmjow's skull had bonked against the glass behind it. "Ouch..." he mumbled against Ichigo's mouth, gradually accepting his placement and relaxing so he could enjoy the kiss. Hands were at his wrists, pinning them back, but he didn’t mind that. Honestly Ichigo wasn't strong enough to restrain him, but Grimm didn't really mind letting him. As Ichigo's head canted further and his lips pressed with more want Grimmjow adjusted without freeing his limbs. A deep kiss...this was nice. “I know what your intention is but if we aren’t honest your family isn’t going to trust me if they find out we evaded the truth.” Grimmjow began to consider…once he went into that house, no matter how badly his body or soul pleaded for a better chance at staying with Ichigo, he would _not_ lie. He just couldn’t bear the idea of being false. Deception could weave them a future in tangled webs but that wasn't a future which would last. _No_ lies, not even one irrelevant fib. None. The forceful hands upon Grimmjow's wrists eventually lifted themselves and Ichigo reinstated some distance, not a lot, but an inch or two. Together their warm breath mingled as their faces lingered closely.

 

            “I just don’t want my dad to know.”

 

            “He’s already going to differ that I’m not typical. The more typical I seem the more suspicious it’ll be.”

 

            Ichigo paused; there was a lot of sense to that.

 

            "So...what was that kiss for?" Grimmjow purred with a sly grin.

 

            Retreating back into his seat Ichigo acted sheepish at that, as if just now coming to realize what he'd just done. “I'm sorry that I aggressively told you to 'shut up'…” Ichigo blinked and offered a guilty smile. “It’s just…I'm stressed out, a-and a little jealous.”

 

            In a small pause Grimmjow considered those things and then smiled back at the young man across the car from him. "Well stop worryin', I'll behave myself in front of your old man and try to avoid talking about work," Grimmjow chuckled, offering a forgiving grin. "But jealous..? Why jealous?"

 

            “I-I'm jealous of whomever made walking straight difficult for you this past week. I did notice.” Ichigo’s eyes slowly turned downward toward the car’s center console. “Whomever they are they're really lucky...” His eyes stayed downcast. "That's why I jumped you when I saw you today."

 

            Hah... Grimmjow found that a little surprising and unexpected. He couldn’t give Ichigo a straight response to that though. They weren’t in the house yet, evasion didn’t count yet. What could he even have said? 'Oh yea, the guy whom I owe more money to than I've made in the last four years is attempting to win me back after forcing me to have sex with him,' just didn't seem like the right discussion to have before this dinner. Now was absolutely not the right time to bring up Aizen. "Well they don’t matter as much as you do. And…'straight' has never really been the right word to describe how I get on. So maybe another word?" Grimmjow offered with a small laugh in attempt to distract Ichigo's thoughts. Stalling an inevitable talk wasn't deception if you did it to help your partner in the moment, right?

 

            Ichigo pressed fingertips to his own forehead, attempting to contain an amused smile that was creeping across his face. "Such a funnyman..." he mumbled with his face directed down. Eventually there was a soft laugh from Ichigo. In the background Grimmjow's soft laughter accompanied his own.

 

            Grimmjow cleared his throat, "So, that all that’s got ya worried?"

 

            Ichigo opened his mouth to answer but all that came of the motion was a deep exhalation of air. He really needed a second or more to consider his words...maybe a day or two. "Uhh...I can explain about that better, but could I answer you tomorrow? I won't be in school on a Saturday so we can take a long walk and talk then."

 

            "Sure. Weekends are big draws for the club but I'll see if I can weasel outta work. Ya better not be keepin' shit from me that we can talk about though." After all, Grimmjow was going to make an effort to explain his own situation...eventually, so he expected Ichigo to do the same in his own time. Grimmjow tapped a finger against the passenger’s side door. "Now c'mon, lemmie out. I’m hungry and I’ve got a family to charm."

 

            “Pfft.” The locks clicked again and both car doors swung open. Chilly fall air whistled around the man and the teenager, messing up what would have been carefully placed strands of hair. After closing up the car the two of them moved together through the front gate.

 

            Grimmjow particularly sought to lace his hand with Ichigo's, as he so enjoyed.

 

            At the front door Ichigo used his opposite hand to flip through a set of keys and unlock the door. "Alright so~o... I haven’t given you a crash course yet and I probably should so here it is: I have two younger sisters," Ichigo informed as he turned the key and took hold of the handle, "Yuzu is the youngest and she has light hair. She'll be the one who cooked our food more than likely. Then there's Karin with dark hair and she'll probably scowl or heavily inspect you at start but she's not a bitter person, she’s just very critical and more athletic than a people person. Finally, my dad, Isshin. He'll probably try to smother you like he does to all of my other friends. So probably just go with it. He doesn't mind a first name basis but if you'd rather be formal 'Mister Kurosaki' is just fine. He’ll still probably tell you to call him ‘Isshin’. They're all harmless really, just smile and don't cuss, alright?"

 

            Self-assuredness was wiped cleanly and utterly from Grimmjow in the moments where Ichigo mentioned his father. It wasn’t the fact that it was all a lot to remember it was the name…the name of Ichigo’s dad specifically… "Fuck..." Either the doctor at Florentine Central was an extreme coincidence or he was about to come face to face with the man who’d cared for him through a serious medical condition, and in the end Grimmjow had run away from the hospital. He doubted that Doctor Kurosaki approved of his behavior, and otherwise…what else could he know about him from that stay..? Grimmjow’s knees buckled a little. There came a steeply declining desire to set foot in this house.

 

            They'd walked in and set their shoes by the landing. For some reason Grimmjow wasn't able to get his off, short of breaking the laces, without some help. After ushering the exotic man away from the front door with reassurance, Ichigo led his reluctant companion into the living room with a grasping hand and a smile.

 

            Grimmjow remembered this room vaguely as he’d been here once before. Didn’t seem like much had changed since then. The living room was pretty big, with space enough for two couches and a plush chair in one corner. To the left side of this room, in the wall that was the front of the house, was a large window with its curtains drawn across. A wide, flat television sat on a table against the wall opposite the two who had just entered the living room; two tall speakers were on either of its sides. Surprisingly the living room was hardly lit. A kitchen with an island counter, separating it from the living room, was to the right - located just behind a warmly lit dining area with a finely carved table. A sweet girl stood beside the table, setting it up. Grimmjow guessed that was Yuzu, the youngest daughter. It was a really pleasant environment and a very nice house, though Grimmjow was more concerned with making his way _out_ as soon as possible than studying the interior as he hadn't before.

 

            Leading Grimmjow around was suddenly taking so much more effort than seemed appropriate for a confident man. Ichigo was so sure that Grimmjow was confident before, what had happened? He really had no clue why Grimmjow so suddenly began insisting in murmurs that they go back outside for a minute. Hadn't Grimm been the better composed of the two of them not but five minutes ago? "Hold it together Grimm," Ichigo urged in a low voice. He knew that there wasn’t time to go outside, the rest of the family had definitely noticed them come into the house.

 

            Grimmjow made a faintly uncomfortable sound and swallowed once.

 

            Yuzu stood in her cute pink apron beside the dinner table smiling and settling out the plates. She was barely able to contain her glee once she saw the stranger walk in with her elder brother. Instantaneously arose the opinion that her brother's new friend sure was tall...and _handsome_. Like a prince! Yuzu’s eyes glimmered a little.

 

            On the other hand, Karin, who was lurking on one of the couches in the dim living room, held a blank expression. Staring from her place on one of the two living room couches she was definitely skeptical. There was a soccer ball resting on her lap which appeared well used. Oddly enough, she too thought the stranger was princely, but to Karin he was almost _too_ well presented to be a noble prince. Then again, Karin had a talent for finding people suspicious for all sorts of reasons. "Hey pops, the delinquent's back."

 

            In a plush armchair in the corner, opposite from Karin, the siblings' sole parent was snoozing away. Mostly camouflaged by the darkness of the living room's switched off lamps made this older man's close location something of a surprise to both Grimmjow and Ichigo – one more alarmed than the other. Once Karin's announcement about their arrival rang out the unfolded newspaper which served as an eye cover, slid down and Isshin stirred from his snoozing state. The first thing he did after refolding the paper was remove his pair of reading glasses and click on the lamp that stood beside his chair.

 

            In the light Grimmjow recognized the same man whom had been his doctor at the hospital. His fear was becoming reality but he stood with an excellent poker face.

 

            “Sorry, I was just catching up on my sleep boys!” A certain enthusiasm filled the father as he looked up to see a strong and well postured form beside his son. He greeted them both, "So who's th-" His 'welcome' fell a little short upon recognition of one _unmistakable_ man. Isshin's mouth hung open with the last word which he hadn't finished caught. This father and doctor was caught in a net of disbelief and shock.

 

            Grimmjow forced himself to smile warmly. His highly suspicion was officially confirmed and now he was at the mercy of whatever that recognition wrought upon him. A little more worry gathered when Isshin's stupefied expression toward him didn't lessen.

 

            Very confused about why his dad hadn't finished saying 'hello', Ichigo piped up and introduced his companion, "Dad this is Grimmjow."

 

            "We've already met, son..." Isshin spoke very slowly, he was clearly controlling whatever sort of emotions he was feeling right now.

 

            "You- Wait, _what_?!" Ichigo yipped. Confusion swirled.

 

            "Small world ain't it?" Grimmjow's tone here was definitely indicative of a cautious nature. He sounded nervous even if he didn’t look it.

 

            Yuzu approached the gathering and eased the tension between the man of the house and his guest. Letting the food get cold, she pointed out, wouldn't be good so they should talk while they ate. Each of them respected the small girl's reasonable suggestion, and Isshin left his newspaper on the seat of the armchair.

 

            Grimmjow meekly followed an amazed Ichigo to the table, knowing that this was going to be an awkward meal.

 

            "You know my father already?" Ichigo hissed quietly as they sat down beside each other at the opposite end of the dining table from Isshin.

 

            "I didn't know your last name...so I didn't know ya two were related..." Grimmjow mumbled back.

 

            Ichigo was still being painfully quiet so no one else overheard them as they all gathered at the table. “It wasn’t at work…was it?” Ichigo’s eyes got a little wider and he canted his head slightly, fully scooting his chair into the table.

 

            Grimmjow immediately shook his head ‘no’. “Hell no…” he whispered. In the coming moments the exotic man straitened up and stopped mumbling as soon as he noticed Isshin watching them. The observation wasn't condescending, simply vigilant, but it was intimidating.

 

            Karin had patiently trailed behind them and took her place across from where Yuzu would sit after the sweet little chef brought out the piping hot cuisine, which Yuzu did right away and placed all of the dishes in the center of the rectangular table. Together they were thankful for their meal and then food began transferring itself to their plates.

 

            Karin and Yuzu were lively and playful but Grimmjow and Isshin weren’t speaking. Feeling the growing awkwardness as Ichigo noticed his dad being extra vigilant toward them, Ichigo broke the ice. "Ahem. So...you already know my dad?" he asked while tearing a deliciously seasoned piece of bread into segments.

 

            So they would casually talk about it? There wasn’t a good feeling around that… Grimmjow sipped at the glass of water set out for him. "Briefly yea..." he muttered around the rim of the glass. He gave it a second to see if Isshin would jump into the conversation but the fatherly figure didn’t. This was too awkward, why wasn't the doc saying anything? Was he in shock? Angry? What? This water glass was the only thing excusing Grimmjow from having to look directly across the table at the male placed at the head of the table. Luckily the delicious smell of the food that Yuzu had cooked was soothing in some odd way...though Grimmjow had yet to select anything for his own plate. Instead of trying to force a conversation that didn’t want to happen Grimmjow glanced at the wispy sister when she slid into her seat and intended to smile and compliment her cooking or ask about the food…but Isshin cleared his throat in that instant which rapidly redirected Grimm’s azure eyes.

 

            Ichigo’s attention was drawn forward too.

 

            Isshin took in and let out a slow breath. Both his son and this exotic guest to their home were quick to look at him.

 

            Maybe Isshin would finally say something.

 

            Yuzu and Karin didn't pay much mind to the situation, tossing back and forth a piece of the garlicky bread neither wanted...until, "Would you excuse us for a second my little angels." Clearly Isshin meant for Grimmjow and Ichigo to get up, as he himself rose from his place at the dinner table and nodded at the two guys.

 

            Yuzu's disapproval was evident in a soft sigh. She was too polite to openly protest.

 

            Karin didn't make a sound but both girls had stilled, not playing with the slice of bread anymore as they watched their father walk away from the table and toward the hallway by the front door, also the route to his clinic and a generally isolated spot.

 

            That hallway was the place Isshin always took Ichigo when the young man either did something wrong or Isshin had something grave to confess. It was not a happy thing. It became that place many years ago when their mother, Masaki, had passed and Isshin had sat with Ichigo on the landing to explain that she wouldn't be able to come home.

 

            Settling with fate Grimmjow had put his water glass down quietly and after Isshin had gone on ahead of them toward the hallway Grimm gave Ichigo a concerned look before sliding his chair back and rising from it. The exotic man stood still, hands fitted into his jeans' pockets, and waited for Ichigo to get up too.

 

            Why was Grimmjow so nervous? Ichigo just didn't understand. Maybe it had something to do with their meeting? Ichigo slid off of his chair, wiping his hands on a napkin before giving his sisters a smile. "Everything's fine, dad's just a little surprised I bet." Both sisters seemed to accept the answer and began tossing the bread again. Ichigo looked warily at Grimmjow and offered his hand to the man to hold who now refused to grasp it. "But-"

 

            "It might tick him off worse," Grimmjow interjected.

 

            “He’s angry at you?”

 

            “You’ll see… I’m really sorry.”

 

            Ichigo swallowed dryly and then they followed silently after Isshin to the hallway in front of the landing.

 

            Grimmjow's fingers curled in his pockets; he actually really wanted to lay an arm around Ichigo or something comforting...but Isshin's mood was far too sketchy to make Grimmjow brave enough. Once both boys had come around the corner Isshin stopped tapping his foot and looked at them.

 

            "What's up dad?"

 

            "Son, you look at me and tell me that your injuries of _three months ago_ have nothing to do with this man and _maybe_ I will let him rejoin us at the dinner table," Isshin commanded firmly.

 

            Grimmjow's stare fell to the smooth wooden floor in the hallway. _'Shit...'_ So the doc could be a hard-ass, not just that goofy memory. Grimm still felt ashamed of the mistake he had made by taking Ichigo to that barn, he would forever, but who could've foreseen the horrible events that it would lead to? If he could have known he wouldn't have taken Ichigo there.

 

            "Dad, he didn't do that to me." Surely his father didn't think that Grimmjow had beaten him up or put him up to getting hurt.

 

            " _He_ came to my hospital, Florentine Central, _three months_ ago, son. It is no coincidence that you two are together right now."

 

            “But Grimmjow didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

            Isshin’s face twitched with a hostile emotion.

 

            Grimmjow’s deeply blue eyes rose again, "What happened was my fault, sir." If he was going to face reality now he was going to do it with dignity.

 

            Ichigo's worry deepened, giving Grimmjow an insistent stare, wordlessly begging Grimm to just keep quiet.

 

            Isshin crossed his arms and assumed an authoritative stance with a straight back even though it made his spine ache. The fierce eyes of the guardian father turned to his offspring. "Well, is it his fault, son?"

 

            "No dad-"

 

            Grimmjow boldly cut in, "I made a really piss-poor choice when we were spending time together. It _was_ my fault." Why couldn't this have just turned out to be a boring but happy family dinner?

 

            "Where exactly did you take my son the night that this mess happened?" Isshin demanded angrily.

 

            "We went for a drive out of town. Faltsville or somethin'."

 

            That answer didn't seem to upset Isshin right away. "You seem mature, like myself. Were you of a mind that Ichigo is much younger than you?" The tone remained harsh.

 

            "Yes, sir."

 

            "Dad, he didn't do anything wrong. We were attacked near an abandoned barn. That's how we both got hurt. It wasn't Grimmjow's or my fault. He didn't know that we were in such a dangerous place," Ichigo begged in earnest to try and convince his dad that Grimmjow wasn't the 'bad guy' in this situation. Unfortunately Grimmjow’s truth-telling wasn’t helping this.

 

            "Faltsville was all over the news for several murders, disappearances, and a handful of assault charges for _months_ before you two went there! I wouldn't imagine he did this to you directly." Isshin's attention redirected to Grimmjow who had been monitoring the father's eyes with a cautious stare.

 

            Grimmjow was keeping tabs on the other man's expression for hints about Isshin's temperament which wasn’t doing so well. From that current expression the emotion to read was obvious; Isshin was _furious_.

 

            "You took my son to this dangerous place when there are so many other more appropriate ones to visit... Do you even watch the news?!"

 

            The exotic man bit the inside of his cheek a bit. He wasn't going to allow his own temper to rear up and join the fray even as he felt its dull presence while he was being grilled for his common sense or lack thereof. Somewhere in his head Grimmjow knew that Isshin was in the right to scold him. “I’m just very sorry. I didn’t realize.”

 

            "You both could have _died!_ A man found my son on the side of the _highway_! Left beside its shoulder, in a ditch! He was hardly in as horrible of shape as you, but he was still injured." Isshin licked his lips and continued his furious venting toward the very intimidated man that stood before him like a stunned deer as it tried to decide to which way it should run.

 

            "Dad! Stop it! It wasn't your fault Grimm," Ichigo muttered to his silently angry and ashamed companion. The young man not only knew of the situation firsthand, but also the level of guilt Grimmjow was carrying on his shoulders. Grimmjow was extremely sorry for what he'd caused so Ichigo wanted his father to stop hounding him. The son just couldn’t understand the parental upset that this was.

 

            "I will not stop! Thatere is more to this than simply where you two went. Ichigo…"

 

            Unknown to anyone Karin was in the living room hiding beside the couch which faced the television. She had sent Yuzu upstairs so her little sister wouldn't have to listen, but Karin really wanted to know what her father was shouting about.

 

            Isshin's tone increased in harshness, "…not only is Mister Jaegerjaquez _five years_ older than you, and I know this because of your medical records and driver's license Mister Jaegerjaquez, but when the paramedics rushed him to the hospital they ran a few _tests_ on his blood to see which medicines we could administer to relieve him of pain and stabilize him and found some curious results."

 

            Ichigo felt the blood drain from his face. What were something like blood tests supposed to mean in all of this?

 

            "Did you two sleep together?!" There was a long pause where both Ichigo and Grimmjow were simply too afraid to reply. When Isshin didn’t get an answer he demanded one. "Answer me, one of you!"

 

            Sensing Ichigo's hesitance, Grimmjow replied in his stead, "We did."

 

            Isshin's fingers tightened into fists. "Fuck's sake! It's bad enough robbing the cradle, but the part that concerns me the most is the _GHB_ and _methamphetamine_ found in _your_ blood-work Mister Jaegerjaquez! Drug use is where I absolutely draw the line."

 

            Grimmjow flinched. That was a detail leftover from a session with Aizen. The signs of GHB in his blood were barely there, the meth was different story, but the potency didn't outweigh their actual presence. What the hell was Ichigo going to think about that? He couldn’t explain right here right now that he wasn’t taking them for kicks…he was essentially being coerced and just taking the ‘medicine’ that he was given. The whole thing just looked very bad.

 

            Ichigo's hazel eyes widened and gingerly he rested his hand on his companion's shoulder, "You…" but before he could think about it any further, or receive a clarifying response, Grimmjow shrunk away from his hand. Reasonably confused, Ichigo was nudged on the cheek by a quick kiss then Grimmjow left him standing speechless in front of Isshin as the exotic fellow moved away from the two of them.

 

            Escape. He had to escape this. It was not something that he was equipped to handle right now. Grimmjow didn’t have the words to explain or the constitution to hold himself together long enough to try. His steady gait lead to the front door, a grim shadow cast over his face. The blue haired man grabbed his combat boots and jammed his feet into them both, tucking their untied laces in. He opened the front door a crack, just enough to get out, and then looked back at the both of them with an apologetic expression. While Ichigo looked severely worried and stunned in place Isshin might as well be saying 'get the fuck out of my house'. "I have no good excuse. Goodnight," Grimmjow bade solemnly, glancing more at Ichigo before he looked away. The white door closed firmly after he stepped outside.

 

            Suddenly coming to a better sense of things, Ichigo's feet quickly moved to chase after Grimmjow but his dad caught his arm. The teenager whirled and glowered into stern eyes. "LET GO!"

 

            Isshin's grip tightened. "No man who is _that_ reckless with their own life and the lives of others will I allow in this house or to share a bed with my _teenage_ son!"


	26. Saints and Sinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: n/a

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

_“_ _Saints and Sinners”_

 

 

_[Somewhere on the streets of the Kurosaki's neighborhood...]_

            Save for streetlamps, and buildings with the glow of electric lights on their porches or garages, the neighborhood surroundings were mostly shrouded and he traversed the streets like a Cimmerian. The temperature tonight was frigid. Air moved through Grimmjow's bleach-white long-sleeved shirt as though a shirt wasn't even there. Not even the friction created as he clomped down the sidewalk at a sprint's rapid progression could guard him against this chill. On this street Grimmjow ran past several houses where people on their porches and in their driveways gawked or offered curious glances, as though he might be suspicious to be getting where he needed to go as fast as possible. Though he had the capacity to trouble himself over strangers' reactions heavier subjects tormented him for the moment. Not even the worry of being tailed by fiends of the night lingered for long in his mind...

 

            After a little while Grimmjow bounded across an intersecting street and a motorcyclist, who hadn't yielded at a four-way intersection with stop signs, locked up his brakes when a flash of blue and white blurred in the path of his high-beams. The driver _narrowly_ avoided ramming the sweat stained pedestrian and bellowed 'dumbass!' after him. Grimmjow never even stopped to apologize for not being more cautious.

 

            Two miles he'd traveled so far... His lungs wouldn't give out. His conditioned legs wouldn't collapse. His heart was pumping strong, it wouldn't break down. Three miles... Underlying feelings, psychological aches, stung and jabbed at him continuously as he fled. Four miles... His body trembled, not as much from the strain of his run as the burdens his soul carried... Five miles. Coming up to the crossing of Gale Avenue over Stephen Street a relieved Grimmjow collapsed against a fence to catch his breath and have a look at the surrounding buildings on all four corners of this major intersection. Sitting there on the chilly concrete with his back to the pickets of a sturdy fence he watched flashing yellow traffic signals as they dangled over the street. Five miles in forty minutes... Running that far so fast would make countless other men keel over, but _he_ hadn't. It was too bad that he still couldn't outrun his demons.

 

~

 

_[Within twenty minutes of Grimmjow's departure...]_

            Isshin believed it should be every mindful parent's intention to keep their children away from sources of harm. He had made a promise to his late wife that their children would live full and safe lives. It was their final vow, an earnest promise which had allowed Masaki to die with a peaceful mind. To allow Ichigo, his only son and eldest child, to go off gallivanting with a reckless substance abuser wouldn't be keeping his promise. Despite Isshin's formidable grappling to keep his son from hastily bolting out through the front door Ichigo resisted and battled for his freedom as if his body's energy reserves were endless. The teenager kicked, and thrashed, and shouted. "Stop it Ichigo!" Isshin was beginning to lose his grip on one of the two svelte arms which he held Ichigo back by.

 

            "I told you to let me go! He can't just run off in the middle of the night!" Ichigo struggled harder, wildly thrashing and jerking from side to side against the superior might which restrained him.

 

            "He probably called a taxi to pick him up."

 

            "So far as I've seen he doesn't even own a cell phone."

 

            "Well his departure was completely his own decision! I did what I had to for your safety. That Grimmjow is a _grown_ man. He's both strong and smart enough to care for himself out there."

 

            "Even _you_ wouldn't walk alone in our neighborhood after the sun's gone down!" A desperate Ichigo wrenched the weakly held arm away and successfully struck backward at his dad.

 

            Something in that flimsy punch stung more than the actual blow. It rattled loose some second feeling in this father. "Son..." Isshin would not to strike back. Instead he gave up his hold on the teenager and blocked the front door instead. "Understand that there is virtually no excuse I will accept for the presence of those party drugs, and there is no excuse whatsoever I will accept for him being ignorant of facts about the place that you two visited blindly."

 

            Ichigo scowled, "You can't expect everyone to watch television for the news!"

 

            "I damn well can't...but I _can_ view them as irresponsible for being ignorant of facts, especially when those facts are warnings against danger. He can’t just take you off somewhere he knows nothing about!" Shaking his head with disappointment Isshin took a long minute to look back up at his son, who stood before him with glassy eyes and a despairing expression on his face. Isshin's eyebrows furrowed again. " _You_ could have told him that Faltsville was a dangerous area because _you_ knew the horrible reports coming from that place a week or more in advance. We sat right there on the couch and watched the news broadcast after ordering pizza and a movie."

 

            Ichigo opened his mouth in order to defend himself but his dad seemed less than interested in listening to an excuse. What Isshin had just said about Ichigo's prior knowledge was absolutely true.

 

            "I scolded him for _ignorance_ of the dangers. It's no better keeping silent about them! You just _deliberately ignored_ the warnings so you could go off and have fun with your friend...boyfriend...whatever you consider him to be!"

 

            Ichigo was very quick to lash back. "I didn't ignore the facts, dad! I just didn't remember about Faltsville until it was too late! I fell asleep in the car and when I woke up we were at a gas station near there. Try to understand would you!? At least let me go after Grimmjow, let me take responsibility for getting him home," Ichigo pleaded in a desperate attempt to appeal to the often kind portion of Isshin's heart.

 

            "Do not fantasize that you are in less hot water than Mister Jaegerjaquez, Ichigo, because I'm boiling you both in the same pot. If you want my understanding in any form about this whole mess explain those drugs to me. I want to know _why_ he took them."

 

            "Do you expect me to know everything about his habits after knowing him for a _short_ amount of time before going out with him?! That's insane! I don't! I had no idea he'd taken meth or G. He didn't take any drugs of any kind while he was around me and he certainly wasn't acting like he ever had before!"

 

            Great...! So his son was not only sneaking out of the house but also getting into the cars of people he didn't know well. That was an entirely different matter that Isshin would have to take up with Ichigo after this fiasco was all sorted out. "Then it was a shady trick of his to conceal having taken them whenever he did. Drugs are supposed to be clinical substances not recreational ones and neglect to mention their use as well as taking hard substances that warp reality for fun really isn't safe, Ichigo."

 

            "I know those things! Stop safe-guarding me so much! I’m not as stupid as this is making me feel…" Ichigo’s breath was trembling as he was really upset. "Besides...I doubt he uses them on purpose," the young man blurted as a last line of defense.

 

            Isshin's thick eyebrows furrowed, creasing gravely over his nose. "So that means he just 'accidentally' takes drugs, hmm?" the older man inferred, obviously being sarcastic toward this flimsy excuse which sounded extremely desperate. Isshin was aware of these drugs potential in deceptive hands…people were tricked into taking them, but he needed to hear what Ichigo knew in order to decide.

 

            "No!" Ichigo snapped before lowering his voice, "I think Grimmjow might have been coerced... As in he was probably tricked or forced into taking them." Something felt as though it had lodged itself in his throat now, Ichigo’s breathing was still trembling. Offering that idea out loud was so much harder than just thinking it. Isshin said nothing back, the mere look on his face insisted that Ichigo continue explaining. The teenager caught on to this and fought to keep his words comprehendible and clear, "I was waiting for Grimmjow outside of his room without him knowing I had arrived a-and…I opened the door just a crack and saw another man on top of him... They were having sex and Grimm was tied up."

 

            The father's face shifted into something apprehensive but surprised. So Ichigo did know something about this…something very intimate and awkward. Isshin's mouth slowly closed and harsh wrinkles over his brow smoothed out. His boy might fib about school things like homework or even chores, dumb things, but Ichigo wasn't one to create lies about an event this serious. "Then this didn't seem consensual?" This news would be a turn for the worst in a whole new direction if the answer to that question was 'no'.

 

            Ichigo felt tears welling in his brown, glassy eyes. It didn't take long for them to spill over in long sad streams while he tried not to choke on his words again. "They weren't t-talking to each other or being intimate I suppose...but it _looked_ kind of painful." The tears stung almost as bad as the memories and conflicting emotions that Ichigo still had from that night. He didn't really want to divulge the detail that one side the exotic man’s face had been streaming with tears even though it was a convincing bit of evidence. "...a-and..! There was a syringe on the carpet that I s-saw... I d-didn't watch for very long..."

 

            A creeping suspicion formed with Isshin that if he wanted clear facts that there was only one possible way to get them. Grimmjow. He would have to talk directly to Grimmjow. "Seems to me you had a bad feeling about what you saw from the start, but you still didn't interfere?"

 

            Ichigo smeared the stinging tears from his eyes and regrettably shook his head. No he hadn't. Never would he come to admit that the scene was so kinky that it had confused his senses but that was greatly part of why Ichigo had hung back. He hadn't been able to help because he was immersed in his own internal war. Watching what could have been coerced rape was a temporary thrill that offered no pleasing aftertaste to this youth, Ichigo didn’t like thinking about what he’d seen. He had ultimately fled down the stairs to get away from the sounds, then he had cried over imagining Grimmjow as a whore who let people use him for anything... Unexpectedly, there were more tears to spill this time revisiting the issue than the last time, but the reason for tears this time were different. The orange haired young man only cried now because he felt shame and distress. Shame for not helping Grimmjow then and distress because his dad wasn't allowing him to make sure that Grimmjow wasn’t tumbling into a dark place. Ichigo folded his hands together as if praying and held back his tearing for the moment. "I'm begging you... _Move!_ He shouldn't be out there alone!" Ichigo managed to plead without whimpering.

 

            Isshin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. After the breath was finished both eyelids rose. "No," he answered sternly. His son was pleading and all but bargaining to be let by. Isshin didn't know what Ichigo saw in this trouble-ridden fellow that was worth this hassle... "Give me the keys to your car. Now."

 

            Heart sinking to the lowest cavity of his body at the answer Ichigo tried to exhale a refusal but only succeeded in quivering, mouth slightly agape to take in the air his running nose wouldn't. The tearing he'd put a hold on was on the verge of happening all over again. "You don't understand! He's-" Ichigo was interrupted as Isshin lifted a single pointer finger to silence him.

 

            Isshin had seen the livelihood drain from his son's face within those moments and clarified his demand, "Give me your car keys so I can drive you around the neighborhood to search. I'm not about to leave you to look for him alone."

 

            A joyful sob erupted from the young man and without more hesitance he offered the keys cradled in his palm to Isshin who plucked them from the waiting hand.

 

            Just a second later the son bounced forward and gave Isshin a hug that threw the father back to memories of his son when Ichigo, as a child, used to try to crush him when they hugged. Against the collar of his shirt this father could feel wet stains. Around his shoulders surprisingly strong arms clung. Ichigo really hadn't hugged him this tightly since childhood. How appropriate the setting for this was... Just around eight years ago at this step by the front door he had explained to his boy that their mother was gone from them and that was one of the last times that Isshin could remember Ichigo hugging him so tightly. Resisting an urge to burst out emotionally himself, the father patted his son's back and brought Ichigo away from him so they could get going. Isshin removed his coat from a hook on the wall. "Go get your coat and one for _him_. The sun's far past set and it'll be stormy and cold outside."

 

            Without a word, only a nod, Ichigo took off to get two coats or jackets.

 

            "Masaki, dear. Please forgive if I'm making a mistake..." Isshin said in a whisper as he slid his winter coat on and headed outside into a cold, overcast autumn evening. “…I’m only trying to do what’s right.”

 

 

            Darting around a corner into the carpeted living room Ichigo nearly stumbled over an eavesdropping Karin who was now crouched by the wall. Clumsy stance taken and all, at least he'd avoided kicking his sister...who honestly would have kicked him back. "What are you doing listening in on stuff like that...?" Ichigo began to reprimand, "This isn't stuff you should-"

 

            She frowned at her brother's none to graceful halt and then interrupted him, "I want to go with you." Her thin arms crossed stubbornly.

 

            Sighing, Ichigo crouched down. "You need to stay here and keep Yuzu company. I bet she's worried." He understood that Karin didn't want to agree with what he said, but Yuzu worried about anyone and everyone. She was a fragile, caring spirit. She also needed companionship, this time to keep the worrying from making her distraught.

 

            After arguing a little Karin came to a slow acceptance of watching over her sister instead of helping them look for Ichigo's 'prince'. It just wasn't fair...but Yuzu would need her. Ichigo guided the reluctant sister upstairs to the two girls' bedroom. Karin stepped into her room with a wary stare cast back at her big brother. "I knew that guy was no saint," she told Ichigo, confirming how she'd initially felt about Grimmjow after seeing him.

 

            "No human is a saint," Ichigo retaliated.

 

            "I still want to go with you," she shot back.

 

            To avoid being stalled for longer Ichigo gently shut the bedroom door in Karin's face. Afterward he flew to his own room to locate a jacket for himself and another for Grimm. It wasn't long before Ichigo had found two and was running down the front walkway toward his Mazda6 with both jackets under his arm. The exotic man couldn't have gotten very far in the past twenty minutes, but that didn't mean he shouldn't hurry.

 

 

            From Ichigo's dim and gloomy bedroom window peered two sets of curious eyes. It was the only upstairs window that overlooked the front of the house.

 

            "Do you think we'll be able to finish dinner when they bring Grimmjow-san back?" Yuzu cooed with her hands in her lap and legs tucked under herself on her big brother's disheveled bed.

 

            Karin shrugged, leaning on the windowpane with both of her forearms. "All I know is that guy's no prince like Ichi-nii thinks." Together the sisters watched the Mazda pull away from the front of their house. There was a crackle of thunder and streak of lightning over the city of Florentine in the distance. "I hope he doesn't come back."

 

            "Karin!" Yuzu fussed, very upset with what her sister had said.

 

            The older sister leaned her cheek against both arms she'd folded against the window, watching the sky and hoping it would pour rain so Grimmjow would get drenched. No one might be a saint but some people just cared more about trying to be... "Sorry Yuzu. I didn't mean it."


	27. Shelter from Storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: drugs and jerking off

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

_“_ _Shelter from Storms”_

 

 

_[Twenty minutes after Ichigo and Isshin had begun their search...]_

            Thankfully at this intersection there was only one multi-layer complex, so it was easier figuring which building he needed to get into. Grimmjow j-walked, bounding up onto the curb on the opposite side of the intersection, without having to dodge any vehicles. Outdoors the weather had worsened, whipping winds swirled and tossed leaves like playthings; the same could be said for the half-shaven mane on the man’s head. Proud cerulean strands of his hair on the longer side were far more ruffled now than they had purposefully been an hour ago. A faint but increasing sprinkle of rain could also be felt on his scalp and neck. Arriving here before a storm could really start up just had to be dumb luck. Pluming clouds way up in the atmosphere were thick and ready to burst. By the look of the overcast sky, which blocked out the moon, it should have been pouring down rain already. Despite fatigue Grimmjow forced himself to jog around the complex to its front steps. After ascending those in two long strides he yanked open one glass door and stepped through the vestibule to the next glass door. He tugged the next one open. Only when the second door seemed to resist his pull did Grimmjow quickly realize just how weary his body was from the strain of that run; he was able to get the door open though.

 

            Bleak as it was in this spacious lobby the temperature was pleasantly warming inside of this apartment complex. Crossing his arms Grimmjow shivered as he rubbed his biceps to bring the chilled and sweaty flesh back to life. A look to his right then his left... He sought some way to get to the floors above. A sign indicating stairs through a doorway was readily noticeable but this building was several stories tall... By no means was Grimmjow puss enough to reject stairs if there were no other route, but a ride up sure would be preferred. Somewhere around here there had to be an elevator and a list of room numbers on a wall. Grimmjow ventured toward the stairs and peered down a hallway branching to the left. Promptly he rolled his eyes. Sheesh. There was an elevator at the end of this hallway, which seemed a little distant… There was also a plaque with the rooms which one would find on the various floors that Grimmjow discovered as he strolled over. He read the plaque to confirm what he’d already memorized.   _'Apartment 56... 7th floor.'_ Grimmjow recited in thought silently. Next he hit the 'up' arrow on the beckoning panel for the elevator and waited. It took a minute or two but soon the silver doors rolled back soon enough and the exotic man filed into the cramped space beside a girl with wavy sea-green locks...and breasts each about the size of his head. She was in a polite word ‘lovely’.

 

            "Up?" Her tone was sprightly.

 

            Blinking out of his momentary stupor the tall man nodded once and spoke to confirm, "Yeah." Grimmjow glanced at a scrap of paper from his pocket just to make sure. ‘Apartment 56 7th floor’ it still said. Imagine that, the note’s lettering hadn’t morphed since it was written. "Seventh floor."

 

            "Mkay. Me~e too!" She giggled then pressed the '7' button. After the doors closed and elevator began to rise the girl lightly tapped Grimmjow's arm for his attention. "Excuse me but you seem to have a lot of hair _way_ out of place." There was a grouping of strands of Grimmjow's long hair hanging down over his eyes and fibers of it thrown across the shaven half that stuck in the bristly length. It bothered her that she couldn't see one of this handsome stranger's eyes through it.

 

            This was a little shocking, that a stranger would mention something like that in such a forward way. "Not surprisin'. I kinda walked here and it's windy outside," he replied, sounding friendly with effort.

 

            Shamelessly the busty girl reached for Grimmjow's head. She combed her fingers through blue strands which were blocking part of the man's face and righted the ones that had caught in the fuzz of his head's shaved side. "There you go! Sexier than it even was before." She tucked her arms back in at her sides and smiled. "That's an interesting hair color by the way."

 

            "Uh, thanks." Past flirting, chicks' spontaneous compliments bewildered him. Though...that dorky smile she displayed reminded Grimmjow a little of Ichigo, who could also bewilder him from time to time. He cast a friendly smile back. It was weird how infectious that expression could be. The elevator dinged and the doors rolled back again. Being polite Grimmjow motioned for the woman to go out ahead of him.

 

            She giggled and skipped out in time for the exotic man to also exit before the doors rolled closed.

 

            While removing the note from his pocket yet _again_ to check the numbers, he only saw the woman's heeled feet as she strode away. Girls and their dainty little footsteps... It was a plaguing thought to wonder if his gate in heels looked the same…so dainty. Grimmjow stifled the beginning of a chuckle and reread, 'Apartment 56'. On the apartment door closest to the elevator was nailed a metallic '50'. Ok, so '56' was farther down the hall. Fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three... He'd run out of apartments to count in this hallway, just a glass door stood before him. It led to an outdoor walkway which led around the side of the building where he guessed were more apartments. "Back outside again huh...?" Grimmjow grumbled just before pushing open the glass door. He stepped outside only to be immediately blasted by the spray of light rain. "Should have seen that comin'..." Over the walkway's railing Grimmjow glimpsed the tops of swaying trees and roofs of cars driving in and out of an underground parking lot that likely belonged to the building he was in. Eager became his desire to get out of this stupid frigid rain when a second updraft sprayed him with rainwater once more while he was standing at the railing. It was a good thing he’d read that note obsessively because this rain might just be the thing that warped the handwriting on it. For just a moment he stood with his eyes closed, calming his silent annoyance now that he was twice as soaked. Flicking his arms uselessly to shake off excess water Grimmjow moved on and began to count door numbers. _'Fifty -four, fifty-five-'_ "Woah!" He'd almost bowled over that busty girl from the elevator. "Shit! I'm sorry, that was my bad," he said with a quick grab to help her stay upright. This door she was waiting beside... The number '56' was nailed to its front.

 

            "Well, well! Hello again handsome. Don't worry about it, these stylish shoes are half of my balance problem anyway." Though it would have been hard to tell that by the comfortable way she carried herself.

 

            Grimmjow's hands left the woman and he rechecked the door number to ensure that it wasn't dealing out an illusion. It was still a five before a six. "Ya here for fifty-six too?" he asked before turning his back to the weather which blustered over the railing. Uncomfortably his sopping shirt clung to the dips and rises of his torso; at least it was only his back that was getting pelted now.

 

            "Mhmm... It must have been fate, us meeting like that before! You must be here to see Nnoitora."

 

            Yea...fate and probably the only cramped elevator in the building which had miraculously brought them together and also put them before the same door now... Since Grimmjow was less inclined to agree with her idea about fate so he shrugged. This girl seemed nice enough but this dashed his hopes of privately discussing the night's events and his problem with that string-bean. Should he even bother to stick around?

 

            "Well? Are you here to see him?" she persisted, knocking on the apartment door, as she'd already done several times without success. Her clothing, like Grimmjow's, was also beginning to get a little soggy.

 

            Fuck it. He had nowhere else to go. "Yeah I am." Again the woman giggled and smiled. That wavy hair of hers made every expression look so... _silly_. Leaning up against the railing across from the apartment door Grimmjow watched her bang on it again. "I'm under the impression he ain't here or he can't hear ya."

 

            The woman placed her ear close to the door, scrunching her sea-green hair up against it. She couldn't hear any music or a television or any sounds through it. "Oh, I know for sure that Nnoitora's at home... I just hope he isn't asleep already. We only have one key and it’s in there."

 

            "Lemmie try knockin'," Grimmjow offered, moving off the railing and closer to the door.

 

            "Sure," the girl replied, taking a step to the side. To be honest if Nnoitora hadn't heard her beat on the door three times what could the soaked blue-wonder change? It didn’t hurt trying though.

 

            Grimmjow used his right hand and hammered on the door with his side of his fist, using force enough to rattle the metal fixture on its hinges. "Nnoitora! Open up! Me and a lady friend of yours are out here in the goddamn rain!" he barked rather loudly. The sea-green girl beside him giggled her trademark sound at Grimmjow's brash technique. Luckily this time there was an answer and the door cracked open a minute later.

 

            "Hi'ya toots!" Nnoitora caught sight of the familiar exotic man standing to the side as the girl crowded near the opening to the apartment for a greeting. After the small door chain was removed Nnoitora opened his front door all the way and she immediately hugged him, affectionately squishing up against the thin man who held an ashtray in one hand and a lit joint in the other. Though Nnoitora whole-heartedly returned this hug he wouldn't take his eyes off of Grimmjow. "Well, well, well! Look'it who it is."

 

            "I found him in the elevator, but he was a little drier back then..."

 

            "Don' mind if yer wet, either of ya. Good ta see ya Grimm, ya are pretty much soaked though...and ya smell like ya been at the gym." The skinny man set the joint between his thin lips after tapping the ashes into the glass tray he'd managed to still be holding. Nnoitora sent the sea-green girl into the dimly lit flat with a gentle swat on her round butt. "Guess ya wanna come in, huh?" the stringy fellow remarked.

 

            "Yeah. If ya don't mind."

 

            "'Course I don' mind. Wouldn'a slipped ya my address if I minded, ‘sides I'd be a jackass ta leave ya out durin' a rainstorm." Nnoitora stepped aside, motioning Grimmjow into his humble abode. After watching the exotic looking man shuffle a bit further than the front door Nnoitora bumped it closed with his hip. "Man yer a sight...white shirts are see-through when they get wet ya know," Nnoitora yakked as Grimmjow looked around.

 

            This living room space he’d walked into was dimmed and glowed green from a lava lamp on an island counter in front of the open kitchen. The sea-green lady was already sitting on a barstool at that counter with her arms folded over her purse and her head resting on them. Both of her eyes were closed, she seemed tired. Another eerie green tint glowed from the corner to Grimmjow's left. Hanging over the couch was an emerald paper lantern with an electric bulb inside.  Oh yeah...and the whole of this living room area smelled _entirely_ of the fine grass which its resident had probably been smoking bowl after bowl of. Considering all of the greenish colors around this place the scent of weed seemed fitting.

 

            Nnoitora left the other man to venture freely around the small living room space and went to stand by the woman at the island counter. They had to step over some clothes laying on the shag carpet. "Don't mind things tha're layin' 'round. Kick 'em outta the way if ya need ta. Apologies, but I was jus' too damn tired ta clean up yesterday an’ too damn high ta do it today." The lanky man leaned over and muttered something to his female company. In response to whatever he'd said she whined. Gently rubbing a flat palm across the high of his woman's back Nnoitora redirected his attention, "This is Nelliel, as she prolly forgot ta mention."

 

            Grimmjow took his eyes from their trip around the room and over to Nnoitora when he realized he was being spoken to. "Oh. Uh, nice to know a name. Good to meet ya."

            "Nel, this is-"

 

            "Grimm..." the sleepy girl drawled, "You said so when he was at the door." She opened her eyes to look at Grimmjow, her mouth was covered by her arms but hopefully she was smiling. "It's good to know your name too," she responded with muffled words.

 

            Grimmjow nodded then dropped his soggy butt down on the sole couch in the living room and laid his head back, allowing his weary body to relax. He could feel his torso and legs trembling now, and the goose bumps on his arms almost hurt. How strange that felt.

 

            Both Nnoitora and Nelliel looked at each other and then back to the exhausted man. "Wanna take a shower or somethin'?" Nnoitora asked, trying to coax Grimmjow into speaking so he could guess at how the other man was really feeling and if Grimmjow was ok.

 

            Even as his muscles vibrated in shivers to warm him part of Grimmjow stubbornly remained deadened from overworking the whole of his body in his hurry to get to Nnoitora's place. Grimm responded with a grunt before offering words, "Nah. I don't think I could stand up for that long."

 

            "You could have a bath," Nelliel suggested.

 

            "Men don't take baths...unless they own a jocose," Nnoitora was quick to assert.

 

            The jest earned a soft chuckle from Grimmjow.

 

            After exchanging playful glares with Nel the stringy man addressed his male guest again. "Ya 'ave yerself a rough night, did'ja?" Prying in this case was probably all too necessary as Nnoitora figured most men to be just as reserved as himself when it came to bullshit they'd dealt with.

 

            Grimmjow grunted.

 

            "I'll take tha' noise as a 'yes'."

 

            Nelliel picked her head up from its place. "Can't you tell, he's experiencing stress? Of course he's had a rough night." She tried to point out with a sweeping gesture of her flat hand toward the dripping wet man on the couch.

 

            "Yeah, it's a little obvious, eh Grimm?"

 

            The exotic man’s neck turned his head to look at the two, now sick of being verbally prodded. He figured if he mentioned _one_ reason he'd trekked his way out here, to the edge of the suburbs, they might stop trying to dissect his mood. "I've got a favor to ask from ya."

 

            "It better not be a sexual favor...this guy's already ta~aken for the evening," Nelliel chirped.

 

            "Nel shush. Why don't ya go and tidy up the bedroom a bit? Kick some 'o my clothes into a pile off the bed so we 'ave a place ta romp, eh?"

 

            Sliding off the barstool the sea-green girl grumbled in protest of his dismissal. She was having fun poking at the guys! To sass the man who had pretty much said 'let me handle this, go do something else' she made a goofy face before wandering down a short hallway and disappearing through a door at its end. "You should offer him a beer at least!" Nel called from the bedroom.

 

            "I would'a if I had any left! But someone kept the truck fer a few extra hours so I didn' get ta the liquor store today!"

 

            "You could have told me you needed more!"

 

            "A man fetches his own case 'a beer so he gets 'xactly wha’ he wants!" To the living room sofa Nnoitora ventured, dropping his ass down on the cushion next to the relaxed entertainer. "I swear...'s just a matter of principal. I'm also tryin' ta be tha' responsible adult who pays for his own alcohol. It's supposed ta be a lot easier ta pay for somethin' yerself than pay someone else back anyway, ya know?"

 

            "Ya two fight like you're married," Grimmjow remarked with closed eyes and his skull still leaning back against the couch.

 

            "Ain't, so don't be sayin' the 'm' word 'round me. It's some serious marks 'gainst luck. We’ve go’ a very ‘appy open relationship. Anyway, wha'cha need ta ask?" Nnoitora tipped his ashtray from side to side without spilling any of the ashes.

 

            "Some crap went down tonight and I've gotta pull my world back together a bit before settin' some of those things right. I need a capable someone to help me scower an area a little ways out of town."

 

            "An' wha' 'xactly would we be scowerin' fer?" Nnoitora asked with a keen amount of interest.

 

            "My Lamborghini, it kinda got away from me while Ichigo and I were out."

 

            The lanky man began to laugh. "Like it jus’ decided it was gonna go fer a drive withou’ ya or somethin'? Ha!" He stared down at his lap and shook his head. "'Kinda got away'... Save yer vague answers fer someone who hasn' heard this part of yer adventure from a primary source." Nnoitora took a long drag after speaking and let the exhaled smoke seep out through his nose.

 

            Grimmjow's attention pricked at that insightful comment, "Woah...the hell ya mean, 'primary source'?"

 

            "Ichigo told me _most_ of tha’ fucked-up tale 'bout yer two's night out. From ya fuckin', in much less detail than was entertainin' I might add, ta ya two gettin' jumped. He needed someone ta talk ta, and we're good friends. By the way, I won't tell Ichigo ya came here if ya show me the scar from yer gun-shot. I believe ya got shot an' all, but tha’ shit's hardcore and the scars turn out pretty interestin'."

 

            Grimmjow narrowed his eyes and frowned at Nnoitora. "That's a bit kiddish don't ya think? I ain't a 'show and tell' pet."

 

            "I'm tokin' from the fountain 'a youth," Nnoitora indicated his joint as this fountain, "so don't be holdin' my humor against me. I can’t help it. Blame the almighty herb. Anyway...why ain't _Ichigo_ helpin' ya now?"

 

            "Well I don’t want to put Ichigo at risk because he’s young and all… His old man also flipped shit when I walked in the door with Ichi."

 

            "Tonight?"

 

            "Yeah. The guy was my fuckin' doctor for three months while I was recovering in the hospital. He said they tested my blood the night the paramedics brought me in and they found GHB and methamphetamine. He made a real big deal out of it in front of Ichigo. I couldn’t stick around, I didn’t have the right words to explain myself." Grimmjow raised his hands up in a shrug and then slapped them down against his knees. "Fuck's sake...I don't even know how the kid thinks of me now...and I'm only tellin' ya the specifics so ya know ya can trust me."

 

            "Trust tha' yer tellin' me truths is gonna be harder ta get than tha’. I don't know ya so well." The string-bean understood that plenty of people in the erotic entertainment business used hard drugs. Nnoitora shamelessly twiddled an unlit joint in front of Grimmjow's face to see if he could tempt the anxious man. "Are ya usin' an' abusin' or are ya hooked? Be honest." To this he got a hostile response.

 

            "Get that shit outta my face," Grimmjow threatened with a glare. "I'm not!"

 

            Shrugging off the hostility, the lanky man pocketed the unlit roll and took another long drag of his burning joint to mull this over; helping Grimmjow was helping Ichigo but not if Grimmjow was lying and turned out to be something worse than a liar. A junkie or an addict. That sort would stack lies. It was one thing to do a bit of bud and lace it with a fine amount of cocaine once and a while. It was a totally different game to be using a heavy depressants and amphetamines _at the same time_. However…Nnoitora had found Grimmjow in a rather questionable situation the last he’d seen of the man and it was a possibility that the exotic man was being coerced. "Ya look me in the eye an' tell me there's another reason why tha' shit was in yer system an' I'll consider helpin'. Ya better mean it though."

 

            Vivid blue eyes stared Nnoitora down as he explained, "It was slipped to me."

 

            The thin man shrugged and ashed his joint again. "Slipped to ya...?"

 

            "My mouth was gagged and I was chained up. I had no way to say 'no'. Before that it was coercion. I’ve told the sick fuck who started this that I’m not doing it anymore and I don’t have a drug habit out of it. Is that specific enough to jump-start your trust, or your dick, or what?" Grimmjow snapped.

 

            The boney hands on the other man gestured for Grimmjow to settle down. "Alright, alright. I don't need ta hear all the messy bits, but I do gotta ask…"

 

            Grimmjow waited patiently for the question as Nnoitora took a pause, probably to make sure that he was phrasing things appropriately.

 

            “Wha’ the fuck ‘appened the night I found ya?”

 

            “That was forced.”

 

            Nnoitora closed his eyes and sighed hard, that was painful to hear. "I'm inclined ta believe ya." Nnoitora took another soothing drag. "I've got a truck an' some tools. I'll help ya, if only fer Ichigo's sake bu’ yer gonna have ta make me a deal..."

 

            "A deal?"

 

            Nnoitora scratched lazily at his jaw, "I wanna see tha’ scar."

 

            "You're kiddin' me..." Grimmjow said with a stoic tone of voice. "Do ya have a fixation with scars or something?"

 

            "Stop bein' so serious... I'm smokin' a joint over ‘ere. Lookin' fer the lighter side'a the world righ' now."

 

            "I'm just trying to figure if _you're_ trustworthy," Grimmjow shot back in good humor, trying to be lighter like Nnoitora had hinted.

 

            "Such a smartass, but I'm tellin' ya...! I wanna see it tomorrow, no fuckin' lame excuses. Now..." Nnoitora hit Grimmjow on the back with a solid slap, "Let's get ya somethin' ta wrap up in. I want ya ta stay the night, it's too dark ta be sendin' ya out ta find somewhere else ta sleep. Pretty sure Ichigo would be put off if he ‘eard I turned ya away from sleepin' 'ere." The skinny man got up from his place on the aged sofa and tugged a reluctant Grimmjow to his feet by an arm.

 

            "Are ya implying I can't defend myself out on the streets?"

 

            With a smartass in tow, Nnoitora brought Grimmjow down the short hallway to his bedroom doorway where he released the other man's arm. "No sir, Grimm. I'm just tryin' ta stay on Ichigo's good side." A sly smirk crept across thin lips as the lanky man walked alone into the bedroom and across the floor to his dresser.

 

            Nelliel was having fun kneeling on the mattress and trying to make baskets in the clothes' hamper with the bundled articles of clothing she was finding in the sheets. "Where are you thinking of letting _him_ sleep, hmm?" She had overheard the last part of their fairly loud-spoken conversation.

 

            "How's it ya figure I'm lettin' 'im stay here?" Nnoitora jeered.

 

            "It's a proven fact that men have projecting voices,"  Nelliel countered with confidence.

 

            Grimmjow stifled a laugh so he wouldn't upset his host even though Nnoitora seemed to have flexible sense of humor. "Couch at a guess," Grimmjow offered as an answer so that he seemed less imposing. "I'd say ya two are gonna be shakin' the bed all night so I wouldn't get much sleep and three in a bed's a crowd anyway if sharing a bed's what worried ya, miss."

 

            "The bed shakin' 's gonna be the least of it..." Ransacking his dresser for the sheets folded beneath his clothes, Nnoitora yanked two light colored sheets from the drawer and threw them - bunched up - over Nel's head to Grimmjow, who caught the haphazard pile with one hand. "Couch it is. Don' lemmie catch ya on the floor or nothin' else, ya hear?"

 

            “I don’t like shag carpet _that_ much.”

 

            “Yeah, ya prefer dick,” Nnoitora played a joke at Grimmjow’s expense and Nelliel began to laugh so hard that she almost fell off of the bed.

 

            Grimmjow grinned sharply, “Not what I meant but you’re not wrong.” In the back of his mind tumbled the matter of thanking Nnoitora for his help. Thanks was due. The form it should take was unclear. So without another word exchanged Grimmjow took the bundled sheets under arm and closed Nnoitora's bedroom door with a nod and a smile. The exotic man made his way to the old sofa. From the opposite end of the flat he could hear his temporary roommates' muffled chatter from their quarters until their bedroom door was closed with a thunk. Grimmjow’s combat boots were the first item he kicked off and he placed them by the front door out of courtesy. He wished he’d remembered to politely take them off earlier; shag carpet was a hard thing to clean. Tugging off his damp jeans Grimmjow dropped them over the back of the couch and set up the sheets. His boxers stayed on, those would dry out much quicker than the jeans would thankfully. Running one hand through his long hair brought attention to the fact that it was nearly dry. Grimmjow flung off his still moist shirt, now bare chested, and sat down on the couch. He was alone with his thoughts... The severely twisted nerves he'd encountered while being confronted by Isshin preyed upon Grimmjow's exhaustion and anxiety.

 

            Tension...there was no way he could sleep with that in his system. Reclining to slip his boxers down on his hips Grimmjow first wiped his hands off on his soaked shirt and then took his manhood in hand. Fingertips massaged his glans and under its ridge to encourage pre-ejaculate to flow. It didn't hinder Grimm's skilled hand in the slightest not to have a lubricating mouth or slippery solution on his cock. What it leaked while he was getting himself going would be ideal for following up with full strokes, which he didn't waste time getting into once the clear beads began rolling from the slit in his glans. Gradually weights of stress were lifting from his trembling body with the smooth jerks he made. "Uuuhh...nnghh..." low moans escaped him as time slipped forward in a pleasant stream. Body sinking into an increasingly lazy position, Grimmjow had reached a point of total relaxation while toying with his arousal. Now he handled his balls with the opposite hand to give the self-service a boost. Ardent passion was put into any and all fondling, a bit of passion that was fueled mostly by memories of Ichigo.

 

            That bliss lasted for roughly twenty minutes before the start of exhaustion began yanking Grimmjow's chain. "Mmnnnn…" he moaned rather quietly, lucky to have caught his first spurt of an orgasm in his palm. The man strained to hold down the rest and brought his creamed hand up to his mouth. Grimmjow lapped up every ounce of the warm seed and his tongue followed a trail of the fluid that had dripped down his forearm. The drip was lapped up as well and promptly afterward he set his hand in motion again. Up and down he steadily jerked, keeping one eye fairly watchful in case Nnoitora's bedroom door opened. He really hoped it wouldn't. In renewed bliss Grimmjow continued working himself through an elongated orgasm, disregarding his exhaustion for as long as he felt he could stay conscious. He caught the rest of the gush from his peaking pleasure and even as that orgasm settled he actually couldn’t stop stroking his cock. It just felt so good after such a shitty night. Another orgasm and twenty _more_ minutes later and his body wasn't even a drop of tense anymore. Nnoitora and Nel hadn’t opened their door. Grimmjow was just alone with his feeling of satisfaction in a room that he was probably already contact high from. His second orgasm hadn’t been as clean though, so now Grimm’s thighs and bare torso were a bit of a splattered mess. Grimmjow cleaned himself up in the bathroom beside the kitchen and ensured that the white towel he'd used made it straight into a hamper behind the door.

 

            Lumbering back toward the couch in just his shirt, which he'd finished drying off with a hairdryer from the bathroom, and boxers Grimmjow figured out how to shut off those two lights in the living room so he could have total darkness. Then the exotic man dropped face-down on the aged but plush sofa he'd laid the sheets across. A sigh of satisfaction followed that. His cock was appeased and tucked away. He also had somewhere warm to sleep tonight...and more importantly this old couch was impressively comfortable. This was when fatigue from such an intense evening really set into him and drug him under. Drifting into a peaceful sleep Grimmjow briefly recalled a time in his life without a comfy bed or couch to sleep on. He was more grateful for his warm sleeping place tonight than his contact-high brain could find words for... Tonight he would dream happily of talking bongs and multicolored marijuana leaves because the living room still reeked of that plant and his mind had a wish to float free of his worldly cares and that would do it...

 

~

 

            Ichigo and his father hadn't been granted any luck in their search of the neighborhood. They'd driven around for hours, asked neighbors, everything possible. Now they were giving up on the search and heading home.

 

            "Dad...I hope Grimmjow's back where he lives by now..." Ichigo suggested to make himself feel more at ease.

 

            "Mister Jaegerjaquez seems resourceful, I'm sure he's somewhere safe for the night." Despite their poor luck in plucking the wandering man from the nighttime streets, Isshin didn't feel any overwhelming guilt about confronting Grimmjow. Perhaps he could have been more discrete with his temper, but if Grimmjow really had a drug habit then Isshin loved his son too much to allow young Ichigo to become part of an addict's world. A small ray of hope existed that Grimmjow was just as his son said, 'coerced' into the drugs. What a grim ray of hope that was. Isshin glanced across the Mazda6 to Ichigo who was falling asleep against the car door and watching sights outside whiz by. His son was _without_ a smile. Part of him wished he hadn't checked so he wouldn't have seen his son in such a miserable mood. "I would say I'd let you skip school tomorrow but it's the weekend. That's an even better time of the week though!" Isshin declared with a cheerful smile.

 

            "I still have homework," the teenager refuted.

 

            "Ichigo, don't be so glum. I can help you finish some of that work and we'll go do something else that's more fun for the rest of the weekend."

 

            "You don't have to," Ichigo countered again.

 

            There was a disappointed pause between the father and his son. Isshin was the next one to speak saying something that he felt was necessary, "Please understand that what I did and said tonight wasn't necessarily done with the intention of chasing Grimmjow out of our home..."

 

            The tangerine haired young man shifted his body and wrapped his arms tightly around the jacket he'd brought for Grimmjow. In his head Ichigo recited a rhyme his mother used to sing about blue jays while tuning out Isshin who kept talking. He had no doubt about seeing Grimmjow again, despite any of his father's wishes he would. This was just going to be a waiting game... If he had to wait another three months before Grimmjow surfaced again Ichigo swore that he would burn everything blue in his room to ashes over the fire-pit in the backyard. He would wait for Grimmjow, but he would lose his mind while doing so.


	28. Bad Blood - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: n/a

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

_“_ _Bad Blood – Part One”_

 

 

_Lain down on the gritty earth all he could see upward was the daytime sky and strange trees with white trunks and round leaves. Wind blew and the leaves rattled softly against their neighbors, granting the breeze a voice._

_"Do you remember?" a human voice near to him hummed._

_Some stitching over his gut itched. A feeling urged him to think that the organs had been dug out recently and replaced._

_A mass beside him was bundled in its own hair. The hair was long, long enough to drag the ground. The color was the deepest of onyx with exquisite luster... "Do you not remember?"_

_"Remember?"_

_"Remember your insides. Do not lie to me... I know that you remember. I know what you know... You know well what we saw..."_

_The words peculiarly soothed him and made sitting up from his lain down position undesirable or impossible...but that inability was not alarming. A sudden feeling of agreement came over him, "Yes... Yes..."_

_"It was fun, delving inside of you. Sorting, shaping..." The black haired form shifted, pulling its face further into its own obscuring hair. "Say...could I play with you anytime, Skiy? Anytime that I want?"_

_"I..." The trees' leaves rattled louder against each other. "I don't know..."_

_"I wish...you knew..." Swirling storms of colored leaves circled overhead and the presumably human mass below layers of hair leaned forward. The rattling of leaves was no longer gentle, they whipped against each other because of the wind. "I wish-"_

 

 

            Grimmjow jolted awake when the figure in his dream came to hover over his perspective and blot out his view with its thick locks of hair. He was certainly not laying down peacefully any longer. "Fuck..." he grumbled, calming himself. A cold bead of sweat trickled down his forehead.

 

            Other than Grimmjow, Nnoitora was the only other person in the flat who was awake now. Nnoitora was within sighting distance when Grimm lurched upright on the couch. The thin man stared curiously from behind the kitchen's island counter as his frazzled guest leaned over on the edge of the couch cupping his face and recovering from shock. Was Grimmjow going to be sick or something? He kind of hoped not, for selfish reasons along the lines of not wanting to clean up spew. Nnoitora didn't readily lend any remarks though, just observed.

 

            Settling himself into the waking world didn't take long once Grimmjow fully brought his mind around to recognizing what was reality and what was fantasy of the mind. Next, after his senses returned, Grimmjow confronted the scrutinizing stare which he felt burning left-ways of himself.

 

            The men matched eyes for moments only. Nnoitora was the first to shrink, casting his attention downward to items on the counter and resumed writing; presumably he was working on important paperwork. "Why don' ya 'ave yerself a shower, I can smell ya from 'ere."

 

            Grimmjow's alarmingly wide eyes became relaxed now, "I might if ya were my mother."

 

            "Should I get Nel? She can be motherly," Nnoitora snarked.

 

            "Don't be an ass..."

 

            "Well don' tell me ya can't see her bein' that way," Nnoitora continued to speak as his pen scratched out letters on the papery form. Near him something was beginning to sizzle on the kitchen's stovetop, which was a skillet with cooking meat. The meat was laid across the hot skillet in even strips. He couldn't fathom continuing this paperwork on an empty stomach but was currently attempting to be that model multitasking adult who brimmed with responsibility...

 

            Grimmjow sidestepped giving his opinion of Nel just in case she was listening from somewhere. "Is that breakfast?"

 

            "It is if ya hit the shower." Nnoitora really couldn't smell body odor from here, he was just being pushy because hot showers eased tension...which he suspected Grimmjow had a lot of.

 

            Rising from the couch with a grunt the calm exotic man lumbered toward the kitchen, dropping a remark as he neared Nnoitora. "Jerk."

 

            "Tough shit," Nnoitora retorted back without even glancing up from his paperwork for the briefest second.

 

            With a nonchalant roll of his eyes Grimmjow waltzed to the near hallway and into the dark bathroom, grumbling something under his breath about being 'washed up enough', presumably he was referring to being drenched by yesterday's rainstorm. He flicked on the overhead light and shut the door, a miniscule part of him wishing he was back at his penthouse right now.

 

            Just as soon as the wooden door 'thumped' closed Nnoitora's eyes floated in the bathroom's direction, awaiting the click of the door's lock. The click never came. "Sheesh he's so carefree..." the slender man griped, refocusing on his stack of legal forms for the second time.

 

            By the time Nnoitora had finished heating breakfast, though he was still writing, Nelliel had pulled herself out of their bed. In a t-shirt of Nnoitora's that came barely to her mid-thighs she wandered barefoot into the kitchen. Hunched over and propping her elbows on the counter, Nel cradled her chin between her hands and watched her man's writing. "The bathroom's steaming. Is he awake?" she hummed.

 

            "He's washin' up." Even for the sea-green beauty Nnoitora wouldn't look up.

 

            "Filing late, hmm? That's no good." She had changed the topic.

 

            "Not like I could'a filed sooner... I owe a metric-ton ‘a money I can't afford. Next step's gonna be stealin' it from somewhere...I fuckin' swear..." Nnoitora was peeved with his situation and having a discussion obviously wasn't assuaging that.

 

            "Stealing is too desperate of a solution for an able-bodied person like you."

 

            "Even slavin' like a dog through ten-hour days at the garage doesn' get me enough." he snapped loudly. Nnoitora was angry...angry about his low wage and slowly recovering injuries.

 

            Nelliel reached over the island countertop and plucked the pen from Nnoitora's hand with a forceful snatch. With that gesture she'd displayed her disapproval of his mention of thievery.

 

            Calmly he held out a hand, expectant to have the pen returned. "Don't screw with me righ' now."

 

            Nelliel had her lips pursed and quickly made the decision not to antagonize Nnoitora. In the moments following she graciously handed the pen over.

 

            Nnoitora didn't take it back by snatching it. Instead he removed the pen and kissed the back of Nel's hand, then calmly returned to his papers. "I didn' mean ta shout at ya toots... I wasn't serious 'bout stealin' tha' few grand, 's jus' somethin' ya say when yer frustrated. I'm jus' off help's radar..."

 

            Nelliel didn't know where he could get help from and she hadn't any money to spare. She blankly stared off in the direction of the bathroom, watching the steam from under the door billow, wondering if the blue dye in Grimmjow's hair would be washed out after he'd showered.

 

            "Don' even think 'bout buggin' Grimm. I doubt he's got tha' kind'a cash ta lend," Nnoitora mentioned when he saw the girl gazing at the door.

 

            "I was _not_ thinking that. I would never suggest that you milk money from a friend of yours."

 

            "He ain't my friend," the lanky man corrected.

 

            A little shocked by the cold answer Nelliel narrowed her eyes. "Umm...what is he to you then?"

 

            "He's my _guest_ an' Ichigo's boy-toy." All he wanted to do was get through more of this paperwork before he and Grimmjow decided if they were going to play recon outside of the burbs today.

 

            When Nnoitora had first introduced the kid, Ichigo, to Nelliel Ichigo's innocent charm earned an immediate place beside Nelliel's heart. She shook her head, disconcerted, and aimed one of her index fingers at the bathroom. "Nnoitora...that is hardly a 'boy' and Ichigo is quite young, isn’t he?" Never had Nnoitora spoken of Ichigo’s exact age to Nel but the young man, with his lack of excess facial hair, higher voice, and playful disposition was obviously an energetic youth when compared to Grimmjow. This was a little bit shocking all and all.

 

 _'Threatened Grimm with her motherly barkin' an' now she's turned on me... Lousy karma today,'_ Nnoitora mentally grumped to himself. The string-bean put his paperwork on pause and rotated around to grab a pile of ceramic plates with silverware on top of them. He shoved the items into Nel's hands. "Forget 'bout it an' set some food on these plates." He was hopeful for a few minutes of verbal silence.

 

            Nel separated the plates and divided the breakfast food evenly anyway. She was unable to forget. Next she went for mugs and after gathering three was soon searching for juice and coffee creamer in the fridge.

 

            "Does the obvious age difference upset ya? 'Cuz ya know, _we're_ more than five years apart." Obviously Nnoitora hadn't been able to set aside the subject either.

 

            " _We_ are both adults... I think of us differently than an adult _man_ having intimacies with a _youth_. Grimm might be an alright guy but he's really robbing the cradle. If I were Ichigo's mother I would tell that man to leave my son alone until he was twenty-one." Nel's voice was surefire.

 

            "Careful wha' ya say 'bout Ichigo's moth-" Nnoitora might have given more of his two cents but the bathroom door came open just then.

 

            Grimmjow wandered up the hallway all dried off except for his hair which he was ruffling with a towel. The shower had worked to relax him, subconsciously his mind was pleased about that. The exotic man was sporting different clothing than he'd been wearing the previous day. Someone had left folded garments, and a note with his name, on the edge of the bathroom's sink. These were a loose grey t-shirt with a black wolf across the chest, a pair of classic peg-leg blue jeans, and ankle-high black socks. To call this attire 'comfortable' was saying too little. The ensemble was _very_ comfortable. The note with his nickname, scrawled in fancy cursive, had gotten him to smile so he'd kept it and tucked it into a pocket. "What's that guilty look for? Ya talkin' about me behind my back or somethin'?" Grimmjow asked with friendly sarcasm, stopping in front of the kitchen's island counter. Both of his hosts did have a weird look about their expressions, which was quickly wiped away.

 

            Nnoitora half-assedly made up an excuse, "We hoped ya wouldn' run outta hot water. The buildin's furnace 'as been merciless fer a few weeks now, but Nel totally wanted ta see yer nipples through yer shirt." A lack of sincerity wasn't obvious so Grimmjow swallowed the bluff whole, and Nel shook her head staying quiet - not quite possessing the courage to explain what topic they were really conversing about.

 

            The three people ate their breakfast of thick bacon, fluffy scrambled eggs, rich orange juice, and strong coffee in the living room while watching the eight a.m. news. It was a friendly meal at least. Reports of disasters, killings, politics, and rumors plastered the broadcast this morning after traffic reports. Among these were the ongoing troubles of Faltsville. After breakfast and the news Grimmjow badgered a dutiful Nelliel out of the kitchen so he could take care of the dishes for her. Clean-up didn't take long.

 

            By the end of the morning clean-up some of Nnoitora's motive for going through with helping out had translated into actually seeing if Grimmjow owned a Lamborghini. He'd been suspicious of it being a bluff. Those cars were impressive pieces of machinery and nearly as expensive as buying an upper-middle class house. It wasn't impossible but could Grimmjow afford payments on a car like that with his job? Nnoitora dressed himself fast, combed his hair to one side, and dumped two heavy cases of tools on Grimmjow to be carried out to his Silverado truck. Deliberately he had not mentioned that this was his and Nel's first free weekend together since the beginning of the month. He told Nel not to say anything about that either. Nnoitora called from the flat's front door, "Toots! Meet us at the truck in ten or we're leavin' without ya!"

 

~

 

_[Driving out of Florentine and toward Faltsville via the highway...]_

            Nelliel took her head away from the passenger's side window, longing to roll it down but the temperature of rushing air had the incriminating bite of approaching winter to it. Far too cold to be allowing it to rush into the cab. Seeking something engaging she rotated around in her seat; the bored and unbearably anxious girl would try talking with Grimmjow, who had become eerily quiet after about ten minutes since they'd gotten on the highway. He wasn’t much for conversation though. Nel tugged angrily at her seatbelt, trying to adjust it to her new position. "Rrrr...this darn thing."

 

            "Don' tug so hard, toots. If ya just pull it slowly the belt'll move." Nnoitora would have offered to assist if other cars on the highway weren't surrounding his truck moving at an average sixty mph. Swerving into them was a non-option.

 

            "It's catching on my clothes..." the wavy haired girl growled. Eventually she squirmed enough to get comfortable, strapped awkwardly to her seat in this turned position. Once that was accomplished Nel set her sights on the quiet man in the backseat and took notice that he was lacking the belt which tortured her so. "You're not going to put on your seatbelt, Grimm?" She was meaning to politely pressure him into thinking about strapping it across himself.

 

            Leaning over his lap with his elbows bent and resting on his knees, blue eyes were gazing out of one of the cab's side windows. "Nah."

 

            Nnoitora glanced in the rear-view mirror, sighting the top half of Grimmjow's head and averted azure eyes. "'Nah'? Just 'nah'?" He knew why Nel had asked what she had and was irritated with the frank answer.

 

            Nel patted her boyfriend's leg to settle him, "Why not?"

 

            "I just don't wear them." Grimmjow squeezed his eyes shut and tried to forget the wreck that he'd been in on train tracks. A jammed seatbelt latch had almost cost him his life a while ago – the same story he’d briefly mentioned to Ichigo on the first night of their meeting. Thus followed a lengthy, awkward gap in all conversation throughout the truck. Grimmjow now stared at the truck's plastic floor mats. A delicate hand ruffled at the fluffy side of cerulean hair on his head. Grimmjow did not lift his face. Nel seemed to get that there was a deep-seated reason behind his choice. Nnoitora didn't understand...or didn't care.

 

            The lanky driver eventually put a crack in the silence. "I'm feelin' that confessin' things really ain't yer bag."

 

            "Nnoitora, you don't need to hound him about it. This isn't a big deal," Nel defended, lifting her hand from Grimmjow's soft side of long hair.

 

            "Shush. Why don't ya sit up straight an' face front, eh Nel?"

 

            The busty woman placed both of her hands on the back of her seat and sighed.

 

            Now the driver could redirect his annoyance at Grimmjow, "Why're ya too good ta wear a seatbelt, Grimm?"

 

            "It doesn't sound like any of our business," Nelliel continued to argue.

 

            Nnoitora was quick to switch on the vehicle's stereo and slide in one of Nel's CDs. The pop music was a subtle cue that the sea-green haired woman should find something else to pay attention to. "I'm waitin' on yer answer, Grimm."

 

            Seatbelts... They were a very personal and totally unrelated part of his history. Grimmjow had tucked his discomfort away for a reason. "Ya aren't my pap, so stop fucking asking me," he finally snapped, unsure why Nnoitora had suddenly become so assertive about this.

 

            The Silverado was recklessly jerked to the right. Nnoitora cut off a car in the lane beside them and pulled off on the shoulder of the highway. Gravel and dust kicked up behind its bed as the vehicle made its sudden stop. Nelliel clung to her seat fearfully and watched her lanky boyfriend rip off his seatbelt and whirl around to smack Grimmjow upside the head.

 

            "Fuck!" Grimmjow responded angrily, knocking the hand away. "Are ya fuckin' crazy?!"

 

            "Are ya _dense_ or fuckin' _stupid_?!" The offensive limb rested on the back of Nnoitora's seat after administering the blow. "If yer gonna sit there all passive-like when somethin' someone asks bothers ya how the _fuck_ are ya gonna face the goddamn music when ya do see Ichigo's old man again?!"

 

            "How about ya don't lecture me on how to 'man-up'? Ya don't have any right or a goddamn reason for knocking me around."

 

            "Bullshit! I jus' gave ya a good reason, ya sensitive pansy!"

 

            Grimmjow reached out and grabbed a fistful of Nnoitora's shirt, "So helpin' out turned into schoolin' me as well, did it? Well shit, I didn't know kindness worked that way...!" Grimmjow snarled scornfully.

 

            "Ya got a serious problem tellin' the truth don'cha?!" Nnoitora asserted.

 

            "Fuck you! My truths are heavier burdens than my lies and ya don't get what that's like. I don't just mouth-off my angst to strangers!" Grimmjow wet his lips with a quick movement of his tongue, swallowing an outraged lump in his throat. "As a stranger, how can ya expect me to respect ya enough to take every bit of your advice to heart?"

 

            "Ta prove I ain't jus' a pot smokin' sack'a shit I _volunteer_ at Florentine Central Hospital when I have the time. I left a vase with Ichigo's goddamn address in yer room 'cause the kid came ta me in tears he missed ya so bad!" Nnoitora slammed his fist against the head-rest on his seat and a surprised Grimmjow moved away until his shoulders were up against the backrest of the backseat and just stared, shocked probably. "YOU OWE THA' KID _TRUTHS_! I want assurance that's gonna happen. Not this passive bullshit."

 

            Still shocked Grimmjow's head bowed itself and his body remained still. He was soaking this sensible request up and thinking hard about it.

 

            Nel crossed her arms over her bosom. "Shouting does about as much good as hitting."

 

            "Tha' bump on the head didn't do a damn bad thing to 'im. He's jus' fuckin' butt-hurt righ' now 'cause he has ta face his demons sooner than he thought. He'll git over it. An’ he better put on his fuckin’ seatbelt." Nnoitora huffed and turned forward in his seat again. The truck was set back into drive and merged again with the late-morning traffic. After about five minutes of total silence the string-bean opened his mouth to check on Grimmjow, "Is the pole-humpin' sex monkey still butt-hurt?"

 

            Grimmjow snorted dismissively, "Hardly. Watch for the exit, we're gettin' close." If this were anyone else, perhaps not one of Ichigo's friends, he would have clocked them so hard their face would've been permanently concaved. "Hey, Nnoitora..?"

 

            Nelliel looked from Nnoitora to Grimmjow, surprised that shouting had so quickly moved back into civil communication.

 

            As with his paperwork this morning, Nnoitora couldn't be bothered from his task at hand, driving, and didn't directly look at Grimmjow. "What, asshole?" Despite the name calling the lanky driver wasn't angry.

 

            "Thanks," Grimmjow began with a smile, "for helping me find him."

 

            "Do _not_ make me regret it," the thin man warned, feeling the pressure from their confrontation finish evaporating.

 

            Grimmjow was tempted to ask if they could change the CD, because pop music made him feel as if he was at work, but this was too peaceful a moment to interrupt with further speech. He could see Nnoitora's lips form a stubborn grin in the dull reflection of the windshield...and it made Grimmjow's smile wider. _'Thanks,'_ he thought again, _'you're too clever for your own good...'_


	29. Bad Blood - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: violence, guns, violence toward animals in self defense (if you’re sensitive to this don’t read on, you’ve been warned)  
> Secondary disclaimers:  
> I do not own Blue's Clues nor do I profit from the mention of its name. I do not hold ownership of the gun type .5 S&W Magnum Revolver or Smith and Wesson manufacturers and make no profit from their mention. I do not hold ownership of the gun type P226 SIG Sauer or SIG Sauer manufacturers and make no profit from their mention. Blue’s Clues © Blue’s Clues; .5 S&W Magnum Revolver © Smith and Wesson; P226 SIG Sauer © SIG Sauer

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

_“_ _Bad Blood – Part Two”_

 

 

            Nnoitora turned the truck onto a bumpy dirt road and Grimmjow kept watch at a side window for one familiar barn, the site of a nightmare long passed. The sky was blanketed with the shade of night when he'd last driven down this road so it might be difficult to recognize, especially so if he wasn't paying attention. When the truck traversed over several large mounds of dirt it jostled and one leg of Grimmjow's slipped out from underneath himself. As an attempt to stabilize his heel met with the plastic mat but instead of pushing himself properly onto the backseat again it slid. Grimmjow's shin wound up jammed against the back corner of the driver's seat and his boot's toe had kicked something. Worried that he might have broken it after hearing a 'clack' Grimmjow subtly checked under the seat. He was brought face to face with the barrels of a shotgun. Well...a thick gun barrel would need a harder kick to break wouldn't it? At least the gun hadn't gone off.

 

            "Shit, sorry 'bout tha' Grimm, gettin' a little rocky up 'ere. Doesn' seem like many folks drive out 'ere ‘r the road'd be better tended." Nnoitora only noticed the man behind him sit up again and didn't think anything extra of that as the truck rocked them side to side.

 

            "Don't worry about it." Grimm collected himself, choosing to ignore the firearm, and kneeled on the backseat. It wasn't so surprising that Nnoitora would have a gun stashed in his truck.

 

            "Oh...! Look!" Nelliel shouted, raising a hand in front of Nnoitora's face to point out a structure outside his window as they passed by.

 

            Beside the Silverado two rooftops peeked over tall golden plants and then appeared a gate. "Shit, that's it! That's the place," Grimmjow called.

 

            Cussing under his breath Nnoitora stomped on the break. Following the halt the transmission shifted into reverse and the compliant Silverado crawled backward until the picket gate was framed through the driver's side window. A flurry of dust had been raised around the truck but was easily dispersed by the unhindered wind coming from across the plains of Faltsville. The vehicle now idled in park as they all three stared out at the ominous farmland, scarcely able to see the massive barn beyond obstructing plants in the fields to either side. "Ya sure this is the place, Grimm?"

 

            Completely sure? Not totally but _mostly_. "Just get out, this is it." He'd know for sure by the gate once they got close though.

 

            The truck's ignition was shut off but the keys weren't taken out. Nnoitora and Grimmjow promptly piled out of the truck in a disorganized heap. Nnoitora's sneakers and Grimmjow's boots landing on the dry road managed to kick dust up again, a small amount.

 

            "Is it alright to just park here when nobody will be in the truck?" Nelliel asked, leaning to peek at Nnoitora around the open door.

 

            "I don' wan' ya comin' with us, toots. How 'bout ya man the truck while we're gone?"

 

            "How does a woman 'man' something anyway?" Nel playfully sassed, scooting to the driver's seat. She wasn't very happy about being left behind but it wasn't hard to understand Nnoitora's reasoning. Danger was danger and this wasn't familiar land.

 

            Grimmjow was the one to shut the door for the Nel while her stringy man went to inspect the gate. Grimm knocked on the window and Nelliel rolled it down. "Just leave the window cracked so ya can hear us," Grimmjow suggested backpedaling in his steps until she nodded, then he pivoted. The cerulean haired man slowed his stride and stopped in front of the paint chipped gate. This was the same one alright, but it puzzled him why it wasn't as easy to open as before. "What's takin' ya so long? There's just a latch under that beam on the other side."

 

            "There's a lock 'ere..." Nnoitora grumbled tugging at a metal padlock that was threaded through a hole drilled in the latch to keep it from rising. "Need a key fer it."

 

            "Or some serious bolt cutters." Which Grimmjow knew to be located in the tool boxes he'd dumped in the back of the truck because they’d packed tools such as those.

 

            "Forget it. Until we know fer certain tha' we need it cut we shouldn' be cuttin' it."

 

            Grimmjow blew out a puff of frustrated air. He took hold of the top of the planks and checked for obstructions on the other side of the gate. With nothing menacing in sight he boosted himself over it. Grimm’s combat boots landed on the ground with a plume of dust then he squatted down in front of the latch from other side, eyeing the sturdy lock. Damn...someone had gotten wise since three months ago. "We should get the tools and walk..." Yanking on the body of the lock to see if it might give from not having been closed all the way Grimmjow discovered it refused to yield to his force. "...this thing isn't going to budge and you’re right about not cuttin’ it right away." Walking should be alright, so long as they exploited subtlety to keep any unknown observers from noticing them. Grimmjow straightened his back and glanced around. Weeds as tall and higher than his own head had sprung up over the months passed, covering the surrounding area to both sides. Or were they weeds? They could be crops… Sun, high in the sky, shone down through the elongated golden stalks which swayed in the cutting fall breeze. The impression that someone was intentionally hiding this place away now remained at the forefront of his thoughts. After-all, there were no good vantage points for passers-by whatsoever.

 

            Noticing the fear-like emotion in Grimmjow's azure eyes Nnoitora followed the second man's gaze and watched the stalks sway for a moment before looking to Grimmjow again. "What is it?"

 

            "Tell Nel to block the gate off with the truck and ya should get those tool boxes." Heh. He was worried. A foreboding instinct was telling him to leave, leave _now_. If only he'd heeded Ichigo before...he wouldn't need to be here again.

 

            Under that blue head of hair what the heck could make Grimmjow so gutsy to come back to a place that had almost killed him? The lanky individual stood up and patted off dust, "Lemmie see tha' scar then."

 

            Grimmjow's eyes snapped to Nnoitora. This timing couldn't have been any worse. "Later."

 

            "Now," Nnoitora pestered. "It's good luck ta see a survivor's scars 'afore ya walk inta the place he survived an’ ya haven’ kept yer promise yet."

 

            "If ya wait until later I'll take off _all_ of my clothing," Grimmjow tried as a bargain.

 

            "I ain't fetchin' shit 'till I see tha' scar, an' that scar a yers is the only thing I'm interested in. No offence."

 

            Grimmjow surrendered with a heavy and frustrated sigh and slipped his loaned t-shirt up past his right shoulder. He'd been chilly before with just the shirt on but with it half off he was cold! A dark spot with what looked like stretch lines on its edges was there on the front of that right shoulder. Grimmjow tapped his pointer finger next to it. There was another one plainly visible under his right pec.

 

            "Well I'll be damned... I figured an entertainer such as yourself wouldn' want scars," Nnoitora remarked.

 

            With a snort Grimmjow countered, "Even if I didn't want it, a scar's got a certain sex appeal to it don't ya think?"

 

            "In a morbid way..."

 

            With a trivial roll of his eyes Grimmjow yanked his shirt back down, irritated with the stalling. "Just go get the damn tools."

 

            "Yeah, yeah," Nnoitora assured with a broad grin before sprinting back to the truck. He climbed up on the external tube steps of the vehicle, leaning into the cab through the driver's window - rolled completely down.

 

            Nel grinned, at the thin man. "So...what did you and Blue's Clues find?"

 

            "A whole lotta nothin' so far. Could ya hand me my gun?"

 

            Nelliel had already begun laughing but the request brought her to silence. 'Nothing' sounded like it was going to turn into 'something' rather quickly.

 

            "I'm sorry I hafta ask, but please toots?"

 

            "I hope you don't plan on shooting anyone with this..." She bent over between seats and patted around until her fingers met a single cylindrical metallic shaft lodged underneath the _passenger's_ side.

 

            "Generally speakin', just pointin' a gun at someone should be 'nough ta protect oneself."

 

            Nel frowned at the possibility that her boyfriend knew that fact from firsthand experience. "The silver one?"

 

            "Yea, the revolver. The silver one..."

 

            Nelliel drudged up a revolver, one shining .5 S&W Magnum, from below her seat. "This scary looking thing?"

 

            "Tha's the one." As soon as he had it he popped the chamber open, checking for obstructions and grit. Everything seemed in working order. "Thanks toots." Nnoitora clicked the chamber closed and hooked the barrel of the unloaded gun in the rear of his trousers with the safety on, pulling his shirt and well-worn coat down over the end sticking up.

 

            "Just a minute mister." Before Nnoitora could jump down and go for the tools Nel caught his wrist and piled loose bullets into his slender hand, gently closing his fingers around them. "Even though you aren't going to be shooting anyone, a gun wouldn't be much good without these."

 

            "Thank ya for understandin'." Nnoitora crammed the handful into a front pocket on his jeans. "Grimm says ta block off the gate."

 

            "Ok." Nelliel forced a smile.

 

            Nnoitora picked up on the obvious sign of worry. "What's wrong?"

 

            The woman replied coolly, "Nothing I haven't already mentioned..."

 

            "Worryin' won't change the situation an' yer helpin' me by stayin' safe. Gimmie a second to get my tools 'afore ya move this thing." Nnoitora hauled two hefty cases from the truck bed then jogged back to Grimmjow. After handing the tools over the gate Nnoitora grabbed it with one hand and jumped over. Just as soon as he was clear Nelliel pulled up alongside the gate on the driver's side of the Silverado and Grimmjow handed Nnoitora one case of tools.

 

            Nel opened the truck’s door.

 

            "What're ya doin'? Ya can't come with us," Grimm barked, seeing the vehicle door swing open.

 

            Nelliel froze, just about to step down onto the dirt. About to speak in her defense Nnoitora had a second thought occur and brushed his tongue over his thin lips to wet them instead. Nel jumped down a second later anyway with her hands on two shapely hips. "I'm allowed to kiss my man good luck if I wish," she corrected, sending Grimmjow into an ashamed if not flat-out embarrassed silence.

 

            He watched awkwardly from behind Nnoitora as the man set down the heavy-duty case and reached over the gate to hug Nelliel then kiss her. Grimmjow didn't set down his tool case; it gave him an excuse to fidget. He mostly stared at the gravel but looked up just as their lips came apart. An ache wracked him.

 

            Nelliel let go of her lover who immediately bent to pick up his case again. Her gaze then found Grimmjow, who was obviously trying not to stare. Clear, somber blue...it was all in those two pained eyes. Fear. Nel climbed quietly back into the truck. The door banged shut, not intentionally slammed.

 

            Nnoitora gave Grimmjow an odd look as he passed.

 

            "Should I turn off the truck?" Nelliel called out, but the men were already clearing the driveway and too far to hear her. She huffed, crossing arms and hunching in the driver's seat, "Stupid boys..." she grumbled, twisting the key to stop the engine. A deathly silence filled the space around her and a strong gust of cold fall wind blew into the cabin of the truck. Hair stirred, Nelliel took in the sight of the gravel drive and weedish plants - taller than the truck - swaying as they towered over the familiar diminishing figures of the two men. That look Grimmjow had given...his eyes were knowing and his expression dripped with guilty fright. She knew Nnoitora would be coming back, but she wasn't sure about Grimmjow. When both boys veered to the left and vanished from sight Nelliel felt herself swallow. What kind of monsters could be watching over this place to have given a sturdy man like Grimm reason to be afraid?

 

 

            Nnoitora felt the chilly air even through his heavy plaid coat. It was an unnatural cold, something else was twisting down upon them with the wind. After noticing Grimmjow starting to scower the grounds he had no question or doubt that this was the right place. Gusts picked up and lanterns hung in stables, hinges, and wooden fixtures creaked, warning surrounding inhabitants that there were foreign bodies mucking about the yard. What kind of a mind had Grimm been in to pull off the road for a place like this? The lanky man kicked a scrunched can across the gravel as they approached an area near the barn with a stack of large crates. His dark eyes fell fixed upon the very top of the stack. "Wha' are all these?"

 

            "They weren't here when I was..." This stack was erected in the exact place Grimmjow had parked the Lamborghini. Hardly coincidence. Both tool cases were set down near the front of the pile. Nnoitora stood back while Grimmjow circled around the crates. Following a full three-sixty scan he stopped and kicked over a single crate. "Ain't nothing in these..." Grimm remarked. He grabbed another crate and tore it down, roughly tossing it away. That crate skipped across the gravel and landed with a hollow 'thunk'. The two men exchanged a single confirming glance then began ripping down the pile, carelessly chucking the wooden boxes away from the stack until the very last one was cast away. Below what had been the pile of empty boxes was a ratty tarp covered object which took on an obvious shape... Well that settled it, hunch confirmed. With pins for nerves Grimmjow stood at the rear and Nnoitora at the anterior. The heavy, grimy tarp was whisked off.

 

            "Well fuck me..." Despite being dirty, Nnoitora eyed the specimen of machinery that was Grimmjow's Lamborghini, a bit miffed for the wear, with an almost envious eye. Nnoitora's broad grin sobered up soon enough when he pointed down at the hood of vehicle, two bullet holes where punched through the metal. "Tha's lookin' a lot like someone dumb tried ta assassinate yer car."

 

            Grimmjow plotted his way around to the front and frowned when he saw the holes. "Ya can't release the hood from outside. Someone must have gotten frustrated." Grimmjow traced along pry marks along the crack between the hood and the car's body with his fingers.

 

            "These fellas ya had on yer tail might jus' be short a screw or two."

 

            "Eh...I wouldn't hop to conclusions. Let's see if they did any lastin' damage." Grimmjow had squatted down beside the wheel on the driver's side and slid his arm deep into the frame. The fingers on one hand fumbled around for a magnetic box with a spare key inside in a clever place that was hard for anyone else to detect. When he'd grabbed the box then taken the key out and moved over to unlock the driver's door some spider-web cracks in the shatterproof window and raises between the metal of the door and the body came to Grimmjow’s attention. They’d tried to break the glass and pry the door open. Obviously someone had _really_ put in some effort to break into his car. Unsuccessfully though. The state of his window was reasonable cause for a groan. It would take plenty of time to replace that and Grimmjow would be doing it himself. The key was inserted into the driver’s door and twisted.

 

            Locks turning and the sound of something grinding piqued the lanky audience's interest. "Wha' the hell was that?"

 

            Ignoring questions wasn't an option to a man who was proud of his vehicle's modifications, despite the solemn fact that Grimmjow's head was churning with the daunting task of assorted repair work. "Steel crossbars. Two minutes after the normal locks are engaged the additional bars thread from the door into the frame. Think of it like a vault's locking mechanism, but they're not supposed to grind like that."

 

            Was this supposed to be a Lamborghini or a tank..? After eyeing the miffed edge of the door Nnoitora glanced at the cracked, but not broken window. "Well, all their yankin' on the door must'a screwed up the alignment."

 

            "Considerin' all the places along the door that they tried to find a weak point I wouldn't doubt that. ...but what the hell gave them enough leverage to change the alignment without the tool slippin' has me stumped." Grimmjow lifted the butterfly door and slid in behind the wheel. The whole interior was dust ridden. The console, shift, dashboard, steering wheel, even the seat covers were completely coated. Once he dropped his butt down on the seat millions of dusty particles to sprang into the air. Grimmjow sneezed, waving the dust away as he stuck his key into the ignition and twisted it one click forward to auxiliary. Dashboard lights and gages came to life, the headlights worked too.

 

            Nnoitora had his eyebrows scrunched, "If ya weren't there how'd ya know their tool didn't slip?"

 

            Grimm was not appreciative of skepticism. "It was just a guess, man. The pry-marks along the door aren't raised very high and don't flare out." Grimmjow noted the sad fuel gage; its needle was at 'E'. "Shit," Grimmjow hissed before pulling out the hood's latch next to the foot pedals below the dash. No fuel meant no 'go' but just maybe the gage or floater wasn't reading the level correctly. Auxiliary, for the battery, was switched off. Nnoitora literally hopped out of the way as Grimm sprang from the driver's seat and tromped around to the hood, raising it. Immediately Grimmjow blew out a very heavy gust of frustrated air. "Fuck," he grumbled. One bullet had ricocheted off the engine and gotten lost somewhere, not doing any noticeable harm. However, the second had damaged a section of the braided metal fuel line to the carburetor. Grimmjow went straight to the tool cases they'd laid down, softly grumbling about 'could have blown up'.

 

            Nnoitora came around to the front where Grimmjow was at to see what this muttering of 'blowing up' was about. "HELL'S BELLS!"

 

            "Keep your fucking voice down," Grimmjow scolded, lifting a flathead screwdriver from an opened case and pointing it at the other man irritably. He selected a pair of needle nosed pliers and wire cutters and hooked them in his back pocket.

 

            "Like hell I'll be quiet! Could'a jus' sent us ta tha’ place in the sky if ya'd started it with a busted fuel line!" Nnoitora whined.

 

            "Well it's a good thing I didn't then, huh? Now who's the pansy?" Grimmjow laughed. It’s not like he could have known to check for that.

 

            It was weird how Grimmjow seemed to find this situation amusing at times. "Ain't nothin' 'pansy' about no' wantin' ta be blown sky high...even if the last thing I would'a seen was this crazy vehicle...still wouldn' be 'nough ta send me ta hell happily."

 

            "Well to settle your uneasiness, while I patch the line, the fuel's drained from this line and there's probably no fuel in the tank to cause an explosion." Grimmjow stood back up and reached around the carburetor, to recheck the small holes the bullet had forcefully opened up.

 

            Nnoitora shook his head, eager to forget hazardous instances that he'd had before with any and all fuel lines. The magnificence of the rest of the mechanical assembly which lay under this privileged car's sleek exterior was enough to help him ignore bad thoughts for the time being. "Ya've modified the shit out of this car…these ‘r yer modifications righ'? "

 

            "Yes. It’s my work. "

 

            "Yer nuts… Extended the body ta fit the V8 up front did'ya?"

 

            "A bit. Tried to keep the body as close to the way it was before as I could. The stock engine's twelve liters but this vehicle was a...salvage...so it didn't have the engine anyhow. I was offered a deal for a twelve but it would have made installing a backseat and creating trunk space harder and I needed those. Twelve liters is unnecessary for me anyway." Grimmjow gave a long sigh; if he would have left a roll of thick mechanical tape, which had been gathering dust in his trunk, in the trunk for a week more before this fiasco he would have been able to make good use of it now...

 

            "Blown..." the string-bean man drawled, staring at the casing around the engine's supercharger. Yeah, for once it wasn’t a reference to Grimmjow giving anyone head. A blown engine.

 

            "Absolutely. Twin screw," Grimmjow informed. "I've had that supercharger for forever...after seven years it's kind of become a sentiment. This one never gave me any trouble until about five months ago. It sucks down its share of money in fuel like any of them will but believe me when I say I don't want a different one until mine malfunctions beyond repair."

 

            Nnoitora agreed, jerking a thumb toward where he supposed the truck was parked behind the tall plants. "Even buyin' new tires for the truck feels weird after havin' the same ones for a while. Some parts’d be nice if they lasted forever." What Nnoitora wouldn't understand at a glance was just how deeply mechanics ran through Grimmjow's blood. He would come to understand it in time though; this prostitute and stripper was more than he seemed.

 

            A customized vehicle, or even ones he didn't own but had repaired, were extensions of himself. Before Ichigo, this Lamborghini was Grimmjow's loyal companion. How well he maintained it was uncanny but this relationship was something like a substitute for human communication. The car told him what it wanted and Grimmjow gave it those things. Grimmjow told the car where he needed to go and it went there. No arguments. No fights. Less loneliness. "I was planning future modifications for when the blower gives out...but that was before _this shit_ happened."

 

            Nnoitora was still reasonably impressed. "So, ya sliced the body up, altered the frame, rearranged the guts how ya liked 'em, installed trunk space and a backseat and the V8, an' then put it all back together?"

 

            "Give or take, yeah that's what I did."

 

            "I hope ya tipped the shop and mechanics well for helpin'."

 

            Grimmjow canted his head and slowly shook it, "No, no. I didn't pay for help. I told ya, I did it myself." He tried not to give Nnoitora an alien look as if this self-sufficiency fact was common knowledge. "I doubt I'd never let someone else modify this guy."

 

            Now that called for a thoughtful pause. Nnoitora figured Grimmjow was exaggerating. _One_ man couldn't disassemble, modify, and reassemble a car to this extreme level…could he? That pile of tasks was so tedious and strenuous. He had never personally heard of any mechanic who didn't need a hand or even advice from time to time. There was probably some small amount of advice that the exotic man had taken or minor helping hands he was overlooking.

 

            Grimmjow felt awkward in the silence, "Someone else did take care of repaintin' it black though." He was twirling the pliers around his fingers, eager to just start doctoring his car up. "So... We need to hurry and mend this line before someone shows up and shit gets real...again," Grimmjow reminded.

 

            Nnoitora snapped to, "Don' say tha’, yer fuckin' jinxin' things. I don' got a replacement line or rubber for a patch though."

 

            "Mechanical tape?"

 

 

            It took less than ten minutes for Grimmjow to clean and temporarily mend the line by himself. Then he checked the oil and a few more basic things. Recently he had sent Nnoitora to the side of the vehicle to check the tank for fuel. Of all things on this car to be less fancy...there was no locking gas cap under the panel. The string-bean couldn't smell gasoline or see any shimmering liquid when he shined a flashlight in, just the dry bottom of the tank. Now Nnoitora was merely keeping watch to ensure that nothing snuck up on them; which his blue haired associate didn't seem to remember was still possible while preoccupied. Oh well, _he_ was the one with the gun anyway.

 

            Hood slamming back down, combat boots tromped over the gravel again and Grimm slid back into the driver's seat. He checked for some things, familiar clothing, in the backseat and then got out of the car again. He was brushed with dust by now. Grimmjow started to wander away from the modified Lamborghini.

 

            "Where the hell are ya goin'? I'll git the cans I keep in the truck an' fill ya up with some gas. We should get the heck outta 'ere."

 

            "I need to check something. It's important." The exotic man started toward the old barn. Once in front of its door he worked at breaking its lock off with the tools.

 

            "No Grimm. We have wha’ ya wanted all set ta roll…now let's go damnit." Being ignored made Nnoitora grit his teeth.

 

            “I said it’s important. Just trust me. I’ll explain later.” Flinging away one broken padlock and yanking open the barn door Grimmjow strolled through the door's arch into the familiar shadowy building. Amidst extremely faint beams of light from between small cracks in the wooden walls there was no large beam coming from the place in the loft where he'd pried apart the wall's wooden planks. It had been fixed, nailed back down so it wasn't suspicious or ugly or patched somehow. Grimmjow studied sprinkled dirt and hay on the section of floor illuminated by the open door. Blood stains, old and brown, lay underneath the thin cover. Maybe this earthy concealing could distract an unaware person but this man had seen the origin of these stains. His azure eyes followed a trail of dried smudges, like the messy lines of something having been drug across the floor. Grimmjow wasn't ignorant. A body...that girl's corpse...had been pulled into the shadows of this forsaken place, never more to be seen in one piece. Chills crept up his stiffening spine. Where would they have taken her? He had hoped to pay some respect to the clue which had jolted him into getting Ichigo and himself the fuck out of that barn.

 

            Nnoitora was oblivious, frustration had made him sour and he'd walked away from the barn, already at his truck retrieving a can of gasoline. When Grimmjow looked over his shoulder he noticed that he was alone. That fact made his hard muscles tense. Suddenly nearby rustling of hay occurred. Somewhere unseen erupted with a snarl followed by more scuffling. Grimmjow took a slow step backward and earned a louder growl from an unseen source. Now frozen in place he frantically tried to follow the sound with his eyes. Something was in the barn watching him...and planning how it would come at his fleshy self. Grimmjow gained a chilling thought; suppose that this noise was responsible for the disposal of that girl's body...

 

            Attack initiated faster than Grimmjow could gage. In a flash teeth and barking jaws charged from the shadows and reached the lone man’s leg, taking a bite, settling fangs easily through jean material into tender skin. Agony stricken, Grimmjow bellowed and _nearly_ toppled over as his leg was viciously shaken by the maw of a murderous dog. Daylight was quick to reveal that this was the same bloodthirsty kind he'd been bitten by before! Remembering the pliers he still had in his back pocket Grimmjow defended himself in a way only a desperate man could. His aim was precise and he jabbed the mongrel in one eye, causing the teeth in his leg to fall away. The dog cried and shrank back momentarily. Seizing the opportune moment Grimmjow raised his injured leg and struck with a kick. The dog yelped and dropped, rolling its angry remaining eye around in the socket. The bloody pliers skipped off somewhere else. One sick snarl from the stunned beast was the only signal that Grimmjow needed to bring a heel down hard against its head. It didn't move from its place on the floor, blood forming a widening pool around its head. Fucking hell...he'd just killed that creature.

 

            At a young age Grimmjow had been chased along the border of his pap's farm by a mother wolf after being noticed near its den. He still wasn't sure which he'd been more afraid of back then…the moment when he realized he had to run - which meant being chased, or the time while he was running and praying to every acknowledgeable god that he could run fast enough and outmaneuver the animal.

 

            Grimmjow's hearing picked up another snarl and two more sets of reflective eyes flashed like demons peering through a black abyss. Not more...no god please...not more than one. The next pair of dogs separated, one going to the right the other the left. They slowly moved from the shadows. Black flews rose to reveal sickly gums and long yellowed fangs. Strategizing...that was a skill which feral dogs possessed. Clearly though, these were animals that were at least somewhat trained…trained to be the least friendly degree in existence. Good instinct told Grimmjow they would aim for his legs, and if he went down he was in for a mauling, game over. "NNOITORA!"  he managed before they lunged, snapping maws rushing toward both knees. Grimmjow took a fist's swing at the dog on his right, missing. It leapt backward though. Wracked with pain he kicked with his injured leg at the one to the left. It bit into his boot's heel and to the gnawing dog's unfortunate discovery Grimmjow's reaction wasn't panic. The man forced the dog's skull against the ground with an audible crack. This second dog lay still, it was definitely dead much like the first.

 

            Yanking the foot free from the limp skull's teeth and stumbling just a bit Grimmjow turned to seek the third attacker. A jabbing chill stabbed into his spine realizing the dog had moved back into the shadows. The exotic man took a careful step backward, wincing as pressure on his wound made it ache. Where the hell was Nnoitora?! He backed out of the barn slowly, with a slight limp, without catching any glimpse of the third dog. Grimmjow was a foot and a half outside of the barn’s door when that dog reappeared...snarling and sniffing either of its companion's bodies. Grimmjow's azure eyes raised past the mourning or ticked off attack dog and he caught another sight he'd rather have not seen. Two or three _more_ sets of round reflective eyes creeping toward the door from the shadows. "NNOITORA!" Grimmjow gripped the barn's door by the aged handle and strained to heave it shut as the pack of vicious creatures therein charged for him.

 

            The barn door banged shut, closed firmly, with a few thumps on the other side. Scared for his life, Grimmjow collapsed on gravel and drug himself a foot or two further from rabid sounding barking and claws scraping at the wood. Facts raced in his mind as he calmed himself down. That door was closed tight…he was good…it was all good now… Nnoitora was no fucking help whatsoever though. In his moment of relief Grimm cracked and odd smile and began to laugh softly. It seemed like he was really good at cheating death. Only now could Grimmjow afford look behind himself for that good-for-nothing string bean. A bellow for assistance fell short when he actually located Nnoitora. "Nnoit-!"

 

            Gleaming Magnum drawn, Nnoitora was facing away from the barn, toward the stables, aiming his revolver at a masked individual who was also flaunting a firearm. They were no longer alone. "Grimm...I told yer ass we should'a gotten the fuck outta 'ere when we 'ad the chance."

 

            "Silence! This is no pleasant chat over tea," the masked gunman snapped at the two men.

 

            Grimmjow groaned and changed position so he could lay on his side. Any further pressure on his bleeding calf caused a searing sensation to shoot up his leg. Unfortunately that position change provided no relief as he'd thought it might.

 

            "Cease movement!" the masked gunman shouted setting Grimmjow in his pistol's sights next.

 

            The injured man’s hands, palms flat and fingers extended, came up. "Ya gonna shoot an unarmed man?"

 

            "Grimm don' give 'im any ideas...are ya alright?" Nnoitora hissed, debating whether he should just take a chance and shoot this guy. A bead of sweat rolled from his hairline, over his temple, and dripped off of the edge of his jaw.

 

            "SHUT UP! You both mistake me for a bluffing man if you imagine I will not shoot one of you for talking." Oddly this bossy man didn't appear nervous at handling their situation. The only thing that moved were his eyes and his surefire aim switching between men. Other than that not so much as a twitch or nervous tone from him.

 

            Stalemate.

 

            "Just hold on a damn second..." Grimmjow murmured, mentally replaying the words.

 

            " _You_ can die first blue." The man squeezed his sweating hands tighter around the P226 SIG Sauer, affording a glance at the risen man's bloody dog bite as the agonizing blue haired man got to his feet.

 

            Surprisingly Grimmjow was allowed to rise. "Let's talk," he offered, hands up and standing as well as his leg would allow.

 

            "Let's not. I am not interested in what you trespassers have to say. On the contrary I am here to _kill_ trespassers regardless of what they might say."

 

            Grimmjow nervously licked his lips and watched the area where the stranger had taken his firm stand. There wasn't a bat's chance in hell that he could approach or rush this fellow without taking a bullet…but he might not need to…

 

            Nnoitora mimicked the tongue wetting his lips and glanced from Grimmjow back to the gunman and watched something…

 

            "HA!" A swing from the unforgiving blunt end of a shotgun disengaged the masked stranger, knocking him down. Barefoot, Nelliel stood proudly over the man she'd snuck up behind while Nnoitora sprang on him and forced him down on the gravel. The SIG Sauer had already slipped from his grasp. "Bastard," she muttered at the surprisingly resistant man watching Nnoitora wrestle him. The end of the gun in Nnoitora’ possession, the Magnum, cozied up to the back of the downed man's head putting an end to the tiresome struggling without being fired. Nelliel held the shotgun across her shoulders and gloated, "A woman's touch doesn't have to be a gentle thing..."

 

            "Should'a dropped your rack on him instead, toots. Then he'd be unconscious," Nnoitora panted. The man he'd pinned was belly down against the gravel.

 

            "I'd rather use them on someone worthwhile," she tempted with a wink before venturing toward Grimmjow, a little worried when she'd seen the blood and tears in the jeans. Grimm’s ass had hit the gravel again and now he was laying on his back. The sea-green beauty dangled her wavy hair over his head, "You were brave to distract him for me."

 

            It wasn't like he had a choice, if the gunman had heard Nel he might've shot any one of them. Grimmjow cracked and unusual smile and started to laugh, "I'd swear I know him from somewhere..." he mentioned, quickly ceasing his laugher and groaning from pain, "...at least his voice sounds like someone else’s that I knew. I think…"

 

            "What?" Nnoitora snapped. The man below him suddenly began to wriggle and desperately reach for his gun. The lanky man sitting on the masked man's back didn't allow his hand to reach it. Nnoitora's arm was longer and he took the SIG and chucked it, with safety on, toward the gravel by Grimmjow and Nel. "Don' make me hit ya with the back'a my gun, sir. I _will_ do it, an’ I will enjoy it. Like ya, I ain't a bluffin' man." The man below him growled and went cooperatively still while Nnoitora patted across his body for stashed objects. There wasn't much to find. Thin rimmed sun glasses, ring of keys, an extra magazine for the SIG, and a few hundred dollars in twenties held together by a money clip. No identification. Nnoitora piled the items on the gravel near one of his firmly planted feet.

 

            Grimmjow propped himself up on elbows and stared past his feet at the pinned individual. "Way to ride a fella in front of your girl."

 

            "Shuddup," Nnoitora sneered, friendly.

 

            Even Nelliel giggled. "Let's see his face," the woman suggested.

 

            That was stoking the fire and made the fellow Nnoitora held in check struggle again, hopelessly though. The lanky man clobbered the guy once with the butt-end of his Magnum as promised and gained a yelp and his moderate complacency. Nnoitora then grabbed the back of the mystery man’s cloth mask and slid it off.

 

            Grimmjow's expression was unchanging as a familiar face was revealed. "Ulquiorra... What a surprise to see ya doin' shady things," he remarked with sarcasm. Dark raven hair fell around the delicate face and streaks were tattooed from the bottom lids of both emerald green orbs to the edge of the pale man's jawline. "Who would have thought such a nice guy like ya ain't really so nice."

 

            " _I_ am just a paid hand, guarding someone else's land. Isn't it nice to get paid for _honest_ work?" the pinned man arrogantly countered.

 

            "Not makin' your porno videos and pin-ups anymore?" Grimmjow taunted.

 

            "Unfortunately for me people seem less interested without _you_ in them, whore."

 

            The cerulean haired man stopped talking for the moment and accepted Nelliel's help getting himself on his feet again. When he gave the grounded individual attention again it wasn't to outdo Ulquiorra with snarky remarks. "I need some names from ya."

 

            Ulquiorra looked unamused, being slim-built he felt crushed below another body and Grimmjow's question was one he didn't care to answer, especially for free. "If there is reward for me involved I _might_ be able to give you a slew of useful names."

 

            Grimmjow chuckled half-heartedly and stooped to pick up the SIG. Nelliel put her hand on his arm briefly out of concern but that wasn't going to stop the exotic man from limping toward Ulquiorra with the gun. He crouched before Ulquiorra. A long index finger of his pointed down at the gravel, "Ya misunderstand how _angry_ I really am about what happened to me and a pal, _here_ …a few months ago… I doubt ya would be paid to point guns at people around here if ya didn't know about that at the minimum."

 

            Widely alert green eyes gazed upward, mostly because his sense of danger was engaged. Grimmjow's slightly curving lips were a scary signal, but the bright blue eyes were far worse. The handsome exotic man’s testy expression suggested bemusement too but his gaze down at Ulquiorra was calmly murderous.

 

            "Tell me the names of the men who brought a girl's corpse here about three months ago, and perhaps give the names of your employers who stuck ya here."

 

            Nnoitora wasn't even looking down at the raven head, he was observing the terrifying turn of Grimmjow's mood.

 

            When the raven haired man only stared with a closed mouth after being given a fair chance to speak Grimmjow took his chin roughly in hand and tilted Ulquiorra's whole face upward. "Pretend this is my dick...open your damned mouth." He pressed the end of the SIG's barrel to the man's lips, who simply refused to comply. He waited another few seconds and Ulquiorra didn't follow his instruction. Grimmjow jabbed the end of the gun against the pair of lips and cut the lower one, gaining a hiss of pain from the restrained man.

 

            "Sadist!" Ulquiorra yelped, bleeding a bit and opening his mouth to speak which meant suddenly having the pistol's end forced inside his maw. Ulquiorra's teeth tapped against its metal exterior, keeping his lips curled back as though that would somehow serve to protect himself.

 

            "Grimm...easy does it," Nnoitora mentioned with a cautioning tone while watching the intense scene unfold. Nelliel just stood by the Lamborghini, keeping her distance.

 

            "Trust me, getting anythin' truthful outta this guy is like pullin' teeth. There's no 'easy' with him." Grimmjow continued to stare down at a frightened Ulquiorra as the man gave him a pitiable stare. Grimm disabled the safety on the pistol. "No one's paying ya anythin'. If ya have names to give me nod your head."

 

            Reluctantly Ulquiorra nodded once, whimpering when the gun wasn't taken from his mouth.

 

            "If you're actually goig' to tell me those names when I take my dick outta your mouth nod again." They waited a full minute; Ulquiorra under the scrutinizing stare of the familiar man with the gun finally shook his head, 'no'. "Five..." The hammer on the end of the SIG cocked back. "Four..." Nnoitora tried reasoning with Grimmjow while the angry man initiated the strict countdown but remarks were brushed off immediately. "Three... Two..."

 

            At 'two' the naturally pale man's expression changed notably; the false fear he'd tried to sucker Grimmjow and Nnoitora with melted away. "You are unbelievable," he mumbled around the pistol. Grimmjow now allowed him to rip his head away. Before speaking Ulquiorra spat on the ground once. "The names you desire might be Kaname Tōsen and Yammy Llargo...and personally I would prefer your literal dick to this gun-"

 

            "No one asked your preference. Who are those _two_..?"

 

            Ulquiorra scoffed at the dry question and the gun was forced into his mouth again with a rough tap and shove. It pressed against his upper row of teeth, tilting his head back at an uncomfortable angle.

 

            "I left off countin' down at two, right?" An unfriendly warning.

 

            "Those would be the pair of men who disposed of that corpse..." Ulquiorra mumbled.

 

            Relieved that no bullets had actually been fired, Nnoitora got off of Ulquiorra and stood the offender up after Grimmjow was finished grilling him. Leaving them to each other Nnoitora wandered to get the gas can he'd been toting in the back of his truck.

 

            Promptly after Ulquiorra had gotten himself straightened up Grimmjow caught his eye and fired once at one of the pale man’s feet. The bullet buried hotly in the bottom of the man's expensive shoes, having gone straight through that foot.

 

            When Nnoitora heard the 'bang' he'd jumped and whirled around, not having walked very far.

 

            Ulquiorra grimaced, making an ugly face as he resisted screaming out at the top of his lungs. There would have been no one but these three and the dogs to hear his cries, and Grimmjow would have enjoyed them so he put a strain on staying silent. "Crazy whore..." the raven haired man snarled despite himself. His tone of voice was easily indicative of pain; that much he couldn’t help.

 

            "At least I'm not a liar. There were _three_ men. Ya only gave me two names," Grimmjow remarked coldly.

 

            "I would have told you three names if I knew three..."

 

            "But ya tried to pass it off as a 'pair of men' instead of bein' honest. I'm not in the mood for your usual bullshiting," Grimmjow explained with something of an expression that one could barely call a smile crossing his lips.

 

            Nnoitora felt very much like a guilty part of this now. He could only wonder if the man actually knew another name and was holding out even after being shot.

 

            "The look in your eyes won’t be able to fool someone you've already screwed over," Grimmjow asserted with no wavering in his tone.

 

            "I would screw you again if given the chance too, you smart cunt," Ulquiorra choked out. "Now should I cry _profusely_ about how _dreadful_ this bullet in my foot feels? Maybe your horrified friends would be kind enough to take me to a hospital?" he suggested, trying to play up on their sympathies.

 

            Grimmjow's eyes were getting softer now but still baring an amount of sternness. He looked across to Nnoitora who had to shake his surprise before he could speak.

 

            "It's yer call Grimm, but we ain't takin' 'im back ta my place."

 

            "I'll deal with him since I'm the one who shot him." Grimmjow could feel the adrenaline rolling off of his shoulders like waves of steam. His calf was beginning to hurt again now that the natural high was going away.

 

            Nnoitora offered a falsely reassuring grin as his faith in the bluenette's judgment calls flickered. The lanky man lifted up the key ring he'd borrowed from Ulquiorra's belongings. "Bet one'a these is ta tha' gate up there."

 

            "Probably." Grimmjow glimpsed Ulquiorra pouting insincerely.

 

            The pout then turned into a scowl when Ulquiorra saw blue shineless eyes watching him closely. "You aren't going to prevent me from fleeing with handcuffs or a rope?"

 

            Grimmjow shrugged and lifted the SIG, turning it either way to examine the body of the well-cared-for pistol. His eyes rolled to Ulquiorra and that scowl the raven haired man had deepened. Grimmjow indicated the gun, "This says I don't need them."

 

            By now Nnoitora was back and draining his gasoline can's contents into the Lamborghini while Grimmjow and Ulquiorra continued talking to one another at a reasonable volume, not shouting. Nelliel was leaning against the car beside the lanky man, shotgun resting against her leg. "Grimmjow's a bit scary good at faking people out," she murmured.

 

            "He wasn't," Nnoitora corrected with a disappointed sigh. All he'd noticed was evidence of bad blood between those men. He hoped he would never see those cold, murderous eyes of Grimmjow’s _ever_ again. Nnoitora was resolute that if he did he would tell Grimmjow on the spot to stay away from Ichigo until he righted himself. It seemed like their exotic friend possessed the capacity to be very dark when times were testy.

 

            Comfortable as she rested against the vehicle's sturdy body, Nel's gaze cast itself at the pair a few yards away. Something about the relaxed stances that Grimmjow and Ulquiorra held, despite injuries, gave her a different opinion.


	30. The Better Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: blood

**Chapter Thirty**

_“_ _The Better Man”_

 

 

            Nnoitora had finished pouring his contribution of gasoline into theLamborghini Murciélago's tank and the raven haired man and his _former lover_ , Grimmjow, were finished discussing a few things. Despite the distain for one another they'd been catching up a little. Next came the trial of kindly convincing Ulquiorra to get into the passenger's seat of the Lamborghini. This proved a difficult task for Grimmjow; sure he could push or shove the slighter man wherever he wanted but a sort of 'look' from Nnoitora made him think twice about being too crude. The trial following that proved _even more_ tedious though. The pale man’s shot foot needed attention… Grimmjow bent to look into his own car and reach a clean rag from under the driver's seat for Ulquiorra’s bloody foot and then, after getting Ulquiorra to sit down, Grimm helped the unfriendly man expose his wound. The back of Ulquiorra's skull was pressing hard against the headrest of one of the Lamborghini’s seats while his foot was slipped out of the ruined shoe on it. Grimmjow took care of pulling it off efficiently.

 

            Ulquiorra's posture and expression showed his suffering clearly but the raven haired man never made a sound louder than a growl as he bit into the side of his own hand to distract from the moments of agony. There was a lot of blood, Grimmjow's hands and forearms were covered in streams of it from the moment when the shoe with the bullet imbedded in it came off. Nelliel ventured over of her own accord to offer a full water bottle to them; they would definitely need water but Ulquiorra still gave her a not so friendly look which made the woman wander off right afterward. He was not so keen on having her disrupt his time with Grimmjow, who was currently oblivious to the hostility.

 

            Truly there seemed to be a lot more blood than there actually was once Grimmjow started pouring the water on Ulquiorra's foot over the gravel. From the large puncture slipped a piece or two of the shoe's material, it was fortunate that Ulquiorra had gone without socks but debris in the wound was still a problem. There could be more. Once the water was all gone the rag was torn in half then each half folded thickly and Ulquiorra was made to hold them firmly against either side of his foot. Grimmjow's hands came away from holding Ulquiorra's where they should be once the raven haired man was leaning mostly comfortable against the backing of the passenger's seat. He still felt like shooting Ulquiorra had been worth it. Grimmjow picked up the shoe he'd helped to take off and turned it upside down. An amount of blood that had pooled inside ran out and peppered the grey gravel with its redness. Ulquiorra gave him a sideways look of annoyance but when Grimmjow noticed he just rolled his eyes and blew a quick shot of air from his nose. Maybe he'd figure out an apology later.

 

            The presently polite behavior didn't stop Nnoitora from wandering over to borrow Grimmjow for a word away from Ulquiorra when he could see that they were finished. To begin with Grimmjow protested to being taken aside because he wasn't happy to just leave Ulquiorra unattended like that, but Nnoitora's hand on his back between both shoulder blades urged him along. This insistence blotted out resistance within a few seconds. They were a good distance away now; Nnoitora's hand came away and Grimmjow faced the lanky man to hear him out. "Tha' guy doesn' seem all tha' sweet an' pathetic now but ya can't jus’ let yer anger take the reins an' go off'n fire a gun at wha'ever's difficult."

 

            "Ya don't know him like I do."

 

            It took a moment but Nnoitora shook his head disagreeably, long arms dangling limp to either of his sides, feeling the stressful weight of wondering about Grimmjow's temper and frustrated with the response he'd gotten. "Gimme his gun," the lanky man ordered with a hand out and eyes staring downward at his or Grimmjow's feet.

 

            There was a moment's hesitation before Grimmjow lifted the pistol he'd had under his belt and handed it over to Nnoitora, not a word passed between them for a long few seconds. He hoped that had posed enough reassurance, but Nnoitora shook his head again.

 

            "Ya shot an unarmed man."

 

            "He's armed with more than you'd think."

 

            Nnoitora's eyes snapped up at the given excuse, "Ya _literally_ shot an unarmed man. Jus' cuz ya 'ave bad blood with 'im." He stared sternly at Grimmjow while the words sank in. "Are ya a fuckin' psycho now?" He watched Grimmjow's eyes flicker uncomfortably as the exotic man blinked and looked away. "Don' do tha' bullshit again. It makes me worry ‘bout wha’ kinda person yer gonna be ‘round Ichigo."

 

 

            The Lamborghini had been pulled up to the driveway entrance's gate by the time Nnoitora figured out that not a single key on the confiscated ring matched its lock. As things turned out, from one maniacally grinning passenger, he had no such key but didn't feel like that was 'important enough information' to risk sharing. Ulquiorra complained that he didn't want to be shot again, which made Grimmjow angry and gave Nnoitora another tense situation to disengage. This time though Grimmjow was yanked away from where he was standing while responding to Ulquiorra's yelling with his own loud words. Nnoitora pushed the blue haired man toward the gate, sending an injured Grimmjow stumbling forward until he caught the gate for balance. "This is a fuckin' time-out. COOL OFF!" Nnoitora barked, jabbing a finger at Grimmjow first and then Ulquiorra, who was still inside the car. Both men, feeling weakened from their injuries, shut their mouths for the time being. After some minutes Nnoitora drafted Grimmjow to help him cut off the gate's lock. It gave Grimm something to destroy, he figured, and kept that from being a human being. What could possibly have stirred up so much hate and distaste in Grimm’s heart?

 

            The gate’s lock was cut and now it was time to get the Lamborghini out on the road. Fortunately there was no bad gas passing through the lines or from the tank so it ran well with what little gas Nnoitora had brought to contribute. Unfortunately Grimmjow would be placed right next to Ulquiorra in the car and be not under Nnoitora's vigilant supervision for much longer so his temper would be his own to control. The Silverado moved out of the way of the drive and Grimmjow pulled the modified sportscar out of the gravel driveway and onto the dirt road. It was one thing to see a sportscar and quite another to hear it run after warming up. "There a local gas station 'round 'ere?" Nnoitora asked, leaning out of his window so he could be heard as the two vehicle's engines idling competed for superior sound.

 

            Ulquiorra cut in before Grimmjow could give an answer, "There would be one down this road, perhaps a mile or two away."

 

            Nnoitora's suspicious eyes shifted to Grimmjow; the exotic man nodded to confirm that Ulquiorra was telling the truth. "I'll see ya up there."

 

            The Silverado started out, but the Lamborghini lingered for a little longer than necessary as its driver was distracted. "How did ya know that?"

 

            "It seems common if not important knowledge to know where the closest fuel station is," Ulquiorra responded. "You cannot be serious if you thought I walked here."

 

            "Where's your car then?"

 

            "That is none of your business," he monitored the other man's expression as it became annoyed. "I parked elsewhere. It does not matter," Ulquiorra finally spat. He was lucky that Grimmjow was willing to just let that slide.

 

~

 

_[The Faltsville gas station that Grimmjow and Ichigo had come by twice…]_

            Standing beside the pump waiting for the dispenser to stop, and of course keeping his eye on Ulquiorra, Grimmjow found the time to look up as Nelliel leaned out of the Silverado's window. She asked him a few softly spoken questions about what he and Ichigo had gone through and briefly Grimmjow retold of their adventure out here in Faltsville to the extent of what he could remember, which provided some clarity as to what had happened at this gas station.

 

            She crossed her forearms, watching other customers wander around the pumps. "They really wouldn't know that not all of the stains here are oil spots..." Nelliel swept a long strand of wavy hair away to see better.

 

            "Yeah, I scraped off lucky I guess."

 

            "Aren't you afraid to be here again?" Nelliel asked in a gentle tone.

 

            "...maybe a little." He felt more anger than anything else, but he didn't want to disclose that. Grimmjow flashed a smile for her before he turned stoic.

 

            Nnoitora had come bounding out of the convenient store and back to his truck. He'd heard that bit of their conversation as he moved to its driver’s side door. "People jus' drive righ' over tha' 'grease spot', but ya know…ignorance happens every day. I ain't surprised." He climbed up the tube steps after pulling the driver's door open.

 

            "Such little faith in humanity..." Nel grumbled.

 

            "In the _general_ public," he corrected. "I 'ave more faith in my truck an' I'm proud'a tha', just ask me." The Silverado's door closed with an adequate 'bang' and the truck's engine was stared with easy turn of his keys. As Nelliel was settling back into her seat Nnoitora looked in mirrors and saw Grimmjow's strangely unemotional face. The lanky man leaned out of the driver's window as an inattentive Grimmjow replaced the pump, snatched the receipt from the machine before walking around the back of the dirt smudged Lamborghini. "So ya jus' gonna find those punks an' ask fer a written apology or wha'?"

 

            That caught Grimmjow’s attention and he stopped where he was and looked at Nnoitora. "Somethin' like that," Grimmjow retorted, not putting much of an effort into the response because he wasn't sure exactly what he was going to do with today's new information just yet.

 

            Nnoitora spoke sternly, "Remember, the way 'a this world ain't survivin' through elimination an' savagery. Strongest 'f us weather our storms an' come out the other side better men."

 

            "And women," Nel chimed, bowing out of the conversation after that point.

 

            Grimmjow began thinking deeper into that, eyes drifting down to the Silverado's tailpipe. He had to dwell on the pleasing idea of increasing his strength because 'elimination' was almost as tempting.

 

            Nnoitora found it hard to feel better when Grimmjow momentarily cracked a grin without a word. Who could blame Grimm for the way he might be feeling? Especially after the big reveal with this 'Ulquiorra' person being someone Grimmjow knew, but upsetting situations shouldn't grant people license to become monsters themselves to battle monsters. After all, a method like that would leave only monsters in the world. "Do ya want me ta follow ya back into town incase tha' fuel line goes screwy?"

 

            "Nah. It isn't a long drive anyway." Grimmjow waved a casual hand and turned to plot his way to the driver's side of the Lamborghini. "Have a little faith in my skills to take care of myself would ya?" he suggested.

 

            "Ya should come an' work at my friend's garage with 'em skills." Nnoitora's words interrupted Grimmjow's stride, stopping the cerulean haired man dead in his tracks, still on the passenger's side of the vehicle.

 

            A moment of thought-filled verbal silence passed between the men. Vehicles running, other voices, and background noises of the gas station washed over their ears...

 

            "Jus' think 'bout it, ya can always answer me later. It's not a spot tha's gonna get filled." He wanted to help this guy out of the bad situations he'd caught him in so far. Nnoitora pulled his head back into the truck and glanced in a side mirror to see if Grimmjow had turned around to shout a response.

 

            Well Grimmjow had scarcely moved from beside the Lamborghini’s passenger's door, passively having laid a hand against the car. It was a supportive and maybe consulting gesture; this was no ordinary vehicle aside from its extreme modifications. Though it couldn't speak in human tongues Grimmjow still sought something like its opinion. This man's best pal was mechanical...and he'd surrendered that for a real human being those months back. He couldn't feel an advising voice from the car now. Perhaps that was because he wasn't lonely for friendly human company anymore.

 

            "Well! Think 'bout it, an' see ya, Grimm. Take care'a yer ass!" Nnoitora called. In drive the truck pulled out of the gas station, a plume of earthy dust kicked up in flurries behind it as far as it could be seen going up the road.

 

            The passenger's side window of the Lamborghini rolled itself down. "I cannot believe you _gave_ him my gun," a selfish voice remarked. "I paid four hundred dollars for that one."

 

            Grimmjow's thoughts trailing toward a choice that would perhaps lead him into a brand new era of his life were rudely interrupted. "I left it with him because it's better that he has it than _me_. Keeping it around makes me tempted to use it on ya again." The cerulean haired man circled around to the other side and climbed back into the driver's seat. He was now feeling agitated that he had to sit next to Ulquiorra for the rest of their drive with so much to mull over.

 

            "You have no sense of propriety."

 

            Grimmjow was very tempted to grab that pale face and smash it into the blood-stained concrete while he was still here, just to make a point. "There's now a rule while you're in my car."

 

            "Oh?" Ulquiorra challenged. He hunched, squeezing his foot's wound with gauze Grimmjow had bought him from the station's store.

 

            "No fuckin' talking."


	31. Desire to Despise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: blood, angst, violence

**Chapter Thirty-One**

_“_ _Desire to Despise”_

 

 

            They circled the gas station and got back onto the dirt road, following it until they reached the highway again. Ulquiorra sat in a cooperative silence which Grimmjow relished. Grimm just wanted a bit of time to think on what should come next. Should he tell Ichigo that he'd gone back to that barn? Probably. At some point. Normally a telephone was the best way to contact someone from afar but Ichigo hadn't given him a number to call. Not to mention if it were a landline and Ichigo's father picked up...oh boy would they be in trouble. Merging in with the afternoon rush hour, which wasn't terrible, Grimmjow briefly looked out of the passenger's window. He noticed Ulquiorra watching him intently. "What now...?" the blue haired man growled while Ulquiorra stared him down with a scowl. Grimmjow thought for a second that his passenger might actually be waiting for permission to utter words. "You have thirty seconds to talk," he clarified.

 

            "Firstly… _Slow down_ , you are driving ninety miles an hour on a seventy-five mile an hour road...and this gauze is totally saturated and I am dripping blood on your vehicle's floor..." To this no response was given past a sigh. "Do you not care about either?"

 

            Now Grimmjow's eyes flicked to the speedometer and he eased off the skinny pedal just a bit, not having realized what speed he was doing; he just knew that he was eager to be out of close quarter to Ulquiorra. "Can't do anythin' about the gauze right now."

 

            "Well you _should_ take me to a hospital. _Those_ people would care enough to bandage this wound of mine properly." The raven haired man knew exactly why Grimmjow wouldn't go directly to a hospital. "You are only covering your own ass by avoiding getting me proper treatment."

 

            The exotic man declined giving a comment. He was covering his ass, but he had another plan and he would deal with Ulquiorra in time. It was surprising though, how his passenger wasn’t in so much agony that he couldn’t talk. What a shame.

 

            Ulquiorra gritted his teeth. "Damn you... You are _scum_ for abusing me like this!"

 

            Grimmjow still refused to speak, turning his face away.

 

            "Just say _something_!" the smaller man shouted, green eyes wide with rage. Their intimidating presence couldn't work on a target that wasn't looking his way though.

 

 _'I don't owe ya any words.'_ Grimmjow thought, moving into the farthest left lane to veer off the highway at an upcoming exit. The sportscar was traveling at a more appropriate speed now.

 

            "SPEAK UP!" Ulquiorra shouted, slamming a fist against the seat and grimacing when the exertion made his foot scream and prickle. The pain alone was enough to quiet him for now, but he still looked to see if Grimmjow had given his words consideration.

 

            The fine line of Grimmjow's mouth hadn't so much as flinched, he wasn't intimidated nor persuaded.

 

            At long last, after multiple failures, Ulquiorra resigned himself silently to staring out of the passenger's window, with his cheek against the glass. The vehicle was guided back into Florentine after taking the exit and drove between the shining city skyscrapers; a faint amount of the afternoon sun shimmered on much of the overhead glass and metal. Their city at its heart was a jungle...of brick and stone...modern design. Eventually, after twisting around the tight streets, the Lamborghini turned smoothly onto a pathway leading to an underground parkade between two massive buildings belonging to the same complex. Ulquiorra's large green eyes observed the sun's shimmer against the twin buildings’ mirror-like windows. These connected buildings were towers each were probably forty stories at the very least. The raven haired man began to experience an emotion he couldn't place, it was either from their majesty or lavish implication. The structures definitely spelled high class living which Ulquiorra had an eye for.

 

            The vehicle stopped before the entrance to the parkade beside a keypad on a stand. Grimmjow left the Lamborghini running as he released his door, not needing to step out because of the butterfly design of the doors. He reached out to punch number into the keypad to open the parkade's gate. He would have rolled down the window but in the cracked state that it was in the pieces of glass might wind up stuck in the door. He didn’t want that. The driver's door shut as the gate rolled back then they pulled into the shade of the garage. The Lamborghini wove smoothly around corners until Grimmjow pulled into a section of the parkade with wider spaces, marked for certain residents. He expertly backed into one of the spaces and switched off the engine. With a sigh Grimmjow resigned himself to the task at hand; if he was any kind of psychic or just generally intelligent he knew that this was going to be a mess.

 

            While Grimm began gathering up some things in the car, making a bit of noise as he rattled around, Ulquiorra identified the feeling he had suddenly been struck by as it grew from watching the other man. Maybe it was fleeting, but Ulquiorra wanted this man back. All to himself. They had once been lovers and he wanted it back for…fuck knew why.

 

            Grimmjow had only just let up his door and was about to get out when he looked over to check on Ulquiorra, his lips still a neutral line. Not a frown. Not a smile.

 

            Ulquiorra's hands covered his pale face and hid it from Grimmjow’s viewpoint.

 

            It seemed like the other man was crying, but Grimmjow knew better than to be baited with crocodile tears.

 

            Grimmjow now seemed to have the potential to be refined…in Ulquiorra’s eyes. He could be perfect! Perfect and civilized like he had wanted the handsome man to be from the beginning. Once he heard Grimmjow’s door close and realized that he was the only one still in the sportscar Ulquiorra managed to get out of the Lamborghini by himself and shut his door as well. Grimmjow didn’t offer him assistance as they moved away from the car. Limping along Ulquiorra remained close to him, keeping his mysterious expression to himself, and eventually touched the nearest shoulder he could reach as the two walked toward the elevator in the corner of the garage.

 

            The contact caused Grimmjow, with an armful of things he'd drudged up from his car, to stop walking. He understood Ulquiorra might need some support to walk but this touch was different than a supportive grasp. It felt different…had a different intent.

 

            "I... I want you..." Ulquiorra had no tears on his face while saying this in a smooth and soft voice.

 

            The exotic man’s mouth curved down a little, disappointed. "If I had a dollar for every time I heard that...oh right! I usually do. Stop tryin' to play me." Grimmjow was staring off into space, not looking at the man beside him.

 

            "Come back to me..." Ulquiorra pressured with superficial appeal, eyes looking teary now. "I miss you."

 

            Repulsed, Grimmjow scoffed at the pathetic display. He’d found that he had no respect or affection for a man of this sort. The spontaneously desperate act was especially unattractive. "I'd never take ya back even if I was paid to. I won't be your chump twice." He finalized that by jerking his shoulder away.

 

            This made the tears Ulquiorra had conjured dry up in a hurry as he became frustrated with the unbudgingly cold answer. Grimmjow use to be sensitive to that sort of sentiment. Now it was as if the exotic man’s heart was one massive stone door, shut with no chance to open again.

 

            Once they were both inside the elevator Ulquiorra tried harder. Grimmjow was stuck listening to appeals which eventually turned to angry nagging while the elevator rose. The cerulean haired man's face read plainly as 'uncaring'. _'More a brat than a man anyway...'_ Grimmjow's thoughts growled. The feelings that Ulquiorra evoked in him by being careless and selfish were what had led Grimm to despise this pale skinned man so deeply a long time ago and endured even now. Ulquiorra wanted high class possessions, which Grimmjow seemed to be – a precious and sexy commodity. In the past the blue haired man hadn’t realized at first what Ulquiorra’s aims were but in time it started to show… In present day, Grimmjow was better off than he used to be and it showed. Thanks to a generous contribution given by the owner of H.E.X. to Grimmjow, he was able to live in this rich complex, and not just _in_ the complex either, but at the very top. The upper, _upper_ class's domain. It was the owner of the club who afforded his rent because Grimmjow was excellent at his job and that reflected very positively on H.E.X.’s revenue. The wise entertainer wondered if his new, richer lifestyle had something to do with Ulquiorra's desperation. It had always been Ulquiorra's place to bask in the fineries of life, but Grimmjow wasn't interested in being a man who was only loved if he lived luxuriously...if really 'loved' was the word for it at all.

 

            "Which button did you press?" Ulquiorra's mood was overtly annoyed. "I hate being stuck in tall elevators for a long period of time. I swear if you pressed the wrong one and we go past-"

 

            "You'll kick and scream more?" Grimmjow asked sarcastically, breaking his silence. "Just stop talkin'. Your voice is gratin' on some already thin ice."

 

            The doors rolled back at the forty-seventh floor, the very top of one of the complex's gleaming buildings. Ulquiorra didn't step out until Grimmjow had. They were now in a hallway with tile floors and glass windows all along one wall and five doors to different penthouses on the opposite side. Needing some direction the raven haired man was pulled to the left, one of Grimmjow’s hands had grabbed his arm. "Do _not_ be so rough with me!" He furiously yanked his arm away from Grimmjow's hold. Ulquiorra barely managing not to stumble. "What happened to that junk place above the tool store where you used to live?"

 

            "It's still there, not that I believe ya actually care because your ungrateful arse couldn't stand it." At the end of the hall Grimmjow picked out his key from a black hoodie's pocket, a part of the pile of stuff from the car that he was carrying.

 

            "I could never live so poorly and that neighborhood was unsafe." Ulquiorra moved his fingers against the fine painted designs on the hallway's closest wall. " _This_ place is an improvement, if it is where you actually live."

 

            Grimmjow glared over his shoulder.

 

            "It makes me see you in a whole new light."

 

            "Like I said…" Grimmjow shot the deep green eyes a silencing look, jamming the key into his front door and unlocking it with a few rough turns. "‘Ungrateful’." That 'junk place' as Ulquiorra called it, actually held a lot of sentimental value for Grimm. It was a small apartment above an out-of-business hardware store where he'd found his first job here in Florentine City at eighteen years old. The penthouse door swung open and Grimmjow prepared to take a step in, only to find Ulquiorra squeeze around him and limp inside first. The door was closed just as quickly after Grimm followed the impatient man in.

 

            The wide-open main room gleamed before them with afternoon sun. Ulquiorra's awe-struck eyes shimmered and he was frozen on the hardwood landing, a captive to what he saw.

 

            Grimmjow remained patiently behind him, noticing the reaction. He was very curious what Ulquiorra would do.

 

            This penthouse certainly seemed a wealthy man's dwelling. Though strikingly beautiful it wasn't overwhelmed with lavish colors or pointless decorative furniture against walls. Every solid wall was painted a plain white. A vaulted ceiling over them was made of tempered glass that tinted according to the brightness of the light hitting it. Sun comfortably washed in over fixtures and the broad main room radiated warmth.

 

            A patient Grimmjow smirked, finding the sudden amazement amusing. Did lifestyle and living space matter so much? Not to a man of simple needs. Though…that didn't mean that Grimm was without taste for a room's design and he had some class. Regardless of expense, Grimmjow had been permitted to arrange this penthouse however he'd wanted it. Another perk of being so valuable to H.E.X..

 

            Ulquiorra's eyes were drawn to the left where there was a living room area. Its farthest wall was entirely glass like the ceiling with a softer tinting. A television so flat it could have been mistaken for a thin painting was hung on a solid wall, adjacent to the glass one. A long stark white couch faced the television, another matching one was nearby with its back to the glass wall. Plush pillows of colors grey and black rested on the couches and unlike dysfunctional decorative pillows, which were about as comfortable as squishy bricks, these actually looked soft enough to rest against. Carved into the wall across from the television was a space for books with fine wooden shelves, but it was half-empty.

 

            As Ulquiorra's head turned Grimmjow's eyes followed his focus. He was quite silent.

 

            Right-ways of the front door Ulquiorra's deep green eyes drifted to the second half of the room where there was a small four-person table with one short-backed chair pulled out from it. Stacks of the books, probably the ones that the shelves had been missing, as well as papers and some pens were laid out on what should have been the dining table. Beside that set-up was an open kitchen neatly kept with an overhead fixture that clean pans, pots, and utensils hung from. A fitting 'chandelier' for a kitchen. The kitchen flooring was wood, the same type as the landing. A rectangle of space under the couches was also that same hardwood. Everywhere else there was carpet… _bone-white_ carpet. Not a stain in sight.

 

            Finally, with a quiet sigh to himself Grimmjow could tell that Ulquiorra was almost through looking around. There was only one place left that should draw his attention.

 

            An unmarked pathway from the door straight back into the penthouse became a shady hallway once past the kitchen. This area had no glass ceiling and no windows carved into the wall at its hall's end, only shadowy doors - all identical and all closed. Ulquiorra was shaken from his awe by the somber hallway and cast his eyes down to the pristinely white carpet surrounding the hardwood island by the front door. Still considering the stunning environment, he mumbled dumbly, "I do not think I should step on your carpet like this..." That had probably been the first sincerely thoughtful thing that he had said all day long.

 

            "Ya damn well shouldn't," Grimmjow confirmed, kicking off his combat boots. “Bloody-ass foot.”

 

            "Why _pure_ white? Trying to con yourself back into virginity?"

 

            Grimmjow was stalled on the landing and he considered his answer carefully. "Fuck ya…and fuck no. White makes it easy to tell when things _aren't_ where they're _supposed_ to be." Now Grimmjow moved to go into the penthouse, his shirt was grabbed just before he could take a step off the landing though.

 

            "I think you should be careful of the carpet too." Scowling, Ulquiorra's large green eyes flicked downward.

 

            Grimmjow's eyebrows lifted, remembering the dog bite on his calf. He hadn't thought about the injury since rinsing it off in the bathroom of that gas station. It didn't feel like it was dripping blood right now though. Grimmjow dumped his pile of stuff in a heap and rolled up the pant leg of the damaged jeans. He was honestly sorry that he would have to give these back to Nnoitora as they were, tattered and bloody. The pits from the dog's teeth didn't look so deep but the force from its maw closing had bruised him pretty badly. Most notably, it wasn't dripping blood anymore.

 

            Ulquiorra stood still watching as Grimmjow removed his socks, grabbed the heap of stuff again, and moved onto the carpet toward the shady hallway and his bedroom - where he hoped to set down the things he was carrying. "And what about me?!" the dark haired man grumbled loudly.

 

            "Stand there, I'm gonna get ya a towel." Grimmjow disappeared into the first room he came to down the hallway.

 

            "How courteous. Perhaps you should not have shot me in the first place and-!"

 

            Grimmjow stuck his head out of his bedroom doorway, "Ulquiorra, it's done already. Shut the fuck up about it."

 

            "I am not in the wrong to be cross about what you did!" His foot was so numb right now for whatever reason, jabs of pain only felt like tugging. He felt like it might shrivel and fall off, but he was sure it would begin to scream at him again soon. Ulquiorra glimpsed Grimmjow leaving the first room and moving into another room across the hall. The green eyed man scowled and removed his remaining shoe. He dropped it beside Grimmjow's combat boots, a pair of boots that he recognized…he knew that the blue haired man had owned those since they’d met.

 

            The next thing that happened to Ulquiorra was abrupt. From the hallway Grimmjow strode up to the landing and suddenly hefted the light man, who hadn't even noticed him coming, over a shoulder. Swiftly the raven haired man was carried to the second room down the hallway that Grimmjow had gone into.

 

            Just as soon as Ulquiorra was over hard floor again he squirmed free and stumbled backward away from the other man. He'd been brought to the bathroom, of course. "No propriety or delicacy." Ulquiorra glared, rubbing his now sore ribs.

 

            With a shake of his head Grimmjow stepped into the bathtub at the far end of the room. Sitting down on its edge as water poured in he just hunched over his lap and left his elbows against either bent knee, waiting for the water to warm. It would take a minute or so. To his surprise Ulquiorra eventually gave up sulking by the sink and joined him with feet in the tub as they sat on its edge. The two were no shy distance apart, and that wasn't Grimmjow's fault or intention. What was his fault was when Ulquiorra turned him with gentle encouragement and instigated, not a simple peck, but a deepening kiss and Grimm instinctively went along with it. Their eyes closed, guided only by touch. Unthinking, Grimmjow’s hands moved up and cupped Ulquiorra’s face, caressing the other man’s pale and smooth cheeks with his thumbs like he use to do. The water was warm now and being wasted running down the drain at their feet but they didn't stop for that. This other mouth's habits were _still_ strangely well-known to him making it easy to coordinate their kiss. Grimmjow didn't want to leave the memory but a memory of tenderness was all it was…and when his eyes next came open and it was Ulquiorra's face, not Ichigo's. Grimm remembered _whom_ was kissing and _why_ that was a bad idea – because he had Ichigo and because Ulquiorra was a generally despicable person once one saw past his charms. Grimmjow felt a stroke of guilt and pulled away. Feeling very guilty over what he'd done he sighed hard and went back to hunching over his lap, keeping his azure eyes to himself and the water around his ankles.

 

            Ulquiorra licked his lips, the othe rman’s taste satisfactorily lingering on them. He thought he had hooks in Grimm now so he would offer something for it… "You know...that guy left a note with me." Before Grimmjow could ask 'what guy?' a folded bit of paper was nudged into his hand. Ulquiorra spoke while it was unfolded, "You gave me something that I wanted so there you go. Something for you."

 

            Furrowing his brows a bit Grimmjow straightened the paper over his knee. He read two phone numbers and some words below that to himself. _'Ichi's phone number and my friend's garage. Have fun guessing which is which. Don't hang up once you've called one.'_ Nnoitora was something else alright, and that was definitely his handwriting. Riddles...under these circumstances…how stupid. Why trust Ulquiorra with this fate imbued paper though?

 

            Lustful as he was feeling, believing he held some sway over Grimmjow still, Ulquiorra leaned in and began to kiss his way up Grimm's long neck.

 

            From the corner of his eye Grimmjow stared suspiciously at the pale man, only permitting him to do this because he wasn't going to return the lusty enthusiasm. "This sortta business ain't a transaction, Ulquiorra."

 

            The growl of Grimmjow's voice vibrated along his neck and stopped the kissing up it. "I removed it from your dashboard so it would not get blown away." Ulquiorra's expression wasn't ashamed in the slightest as he quickly read over the note while Grimmjow made himself busy with staring in an opposite direction. He should have read this before... Ulquiorra could feel a his foot searing now, and his jealousy along with that. Another name on the paper, 'Ichi', that must have been the twerp Grimmjow was fucking the night they were paid to _nearly_ lay Grimm and his friend in their graves. Ulquiorra gritted his teeth but all other parts of him seemed outwardly calm.

 

            Two minutes of silence passed as they were both considering what things meant. "Bullshit..." Grimmjow eventually snarled and at the utterance suddenly the note was batted out of his hand by the pale man next to him. It landed in a shallow amount of water and would have been fine except Ulquiorra dropped his injured and bloodied foot over it in bratty fashion. This took a second for Grimmjow to even comprehend, almost afraid to react until he was certain that this had really just occurred. Ulquiorra was really _that_ stupid…

 

            Biting back the rising pain from his gunshot wound, Ulquiorra's eyes lifted after staring for some satisfying seconds at the foot that trapped the paper. "You do not need that if you are finished reading it- Guh!" A solid elbow battered into his chest and one forceful shove sent Grimmjow's ex-lover into the two person bathtub in a sorry, splashing heap.

 

            Grimmjow retrieved the reddened paper, dissolving but still legible and narrowly resisted the urge to kick the trembling individual in the tub while he was down. Instead he shouted, "Ya self-entitled _prick!_ " He kicked water at the other man instead and then left Ulquiorra alone in the bathtub with the faucet still running.

 

            Ulquiorra in his all-black clothing, a t-shirt and jeans, was now soaked and squeezing his eyes shut as he hugged where the powerful elbow had jabbed him and ease the deep ache. He curled into himself, unable to talk.

 

            As Grimmjow stormed out of the bathroom in anger he overheard groans from the other man out of the echoey room. Served Ulquiorra fucking right. "That jackass..." He went to the kitchen's refrigerator and snagged two bottles of beer, the only thing he could think of that would quickly calm himself down. He kicked the fridge door closed with a 'thump' and set the bottles down one handed. The other hand laid the soaked and dissolving paper against on the counter. Figure by figure he copied down what it said onto another shred of paper. Grimmjow's eyes drifted toward the hallway for a moment, listening to Ulquiorra’s continuing agony and the running water. The exotic man frowned noticing that he'd tracked very faint pink onto his white carpet. He finished rewriting the note and took the new copy, the beers, and his remaining sensibility to the book infested dining table. _'What...a...shitty...day.'_

 

 

            Ulquiorra stopped all noise a few minutes following all of this but he and the unapologetic man remained separate for about an hour. Sometime during then the water was shut off. When he eventually left the bathroom Ulquiorra walked out on a semi-bandaged foot, medical tape held thick amounts of gauze in place. Supplies for the bandaging had been in a closet behind the bathroom's door. Ulquiorra noticed Grimmjow at the dining table with a phone against an ear.

 

            Sighting a second person moving around Grimmjow immediately directed the other man to sit down in the living room with a point of one index finger. Not surprisingly he was flipped the bird as Ulquiorra refused to be ordered around. "Yeah, yeah I can handle my shi- self just fine until you're here. I hafta go. ... Bye." Grimmjow brought what had been a friendly conversation to a quick close with Ulquiorra nearby. He set the cordless phone down.

 

            "Why point me here?" Ulquiorra only now wandered into the living room area, the look of the couches was comfortable, even though it was against his better judgment to sit down while his clothing was still wet. Clumped strands of his shoulder-length hair were drying out the fastest of anything.

 

            "Stay where I can see ya and you'll have professional medical attention in about thirty minutes."

 

            Ulquiorra noticed the two empty beer bottles and one more that was half gone on the dining table before looking to sit down on the couch facing the television. His movements and thoughts stalled at what he saw waiting for him on the couch. Beside his sunglasses an unopened bottle, cold with precipitation, rested on a pillow. Ulquiorra looked over and caught Grimmjow watching him.

 

            "It ain't drugged," Grimmjow reassured with a steady tone of voice.

 

            Suddenly, in the face of generosity or mercy, Ulquiorra felt a little guilty himself. "Bottle opener?"

 

            Reaching for the opener he'd used, Grimmjow tossed that one across to Ulquiorra.

 

            After catching it he fingered the tool before putting it to use. "When did you decide to start being a human again?" Ulquiorra slouched against the couch, drinking down the first of his sips slowly. Beer was disgusting but it was alcohol and he was in pain. Ulquiorra’s question went unanswered but he didn't nag for a response and stared through the nearby glass wall out at the city below them. He was still touched by that urge to be with Grimmjow again, especially when he was being treated well. They had been very close...and very intimate. The possibility that Grimmjow was really never going to take him back made him ache for this thing he could not have again. Eventually Ulquiorra came up with something else to say, "So you flip my Jaguar on its lid and wind-up driving a Lamborghini. How does that work?"

 

            "Ya bought me the Jag. It wasn't yours when I flipped it."

 

            "Who did you bed for the Lamborghini?"

 

            Grimmjow's answer was firm as the question annoyed him. "No one."

 

            Ulquiorra's inquiring green eyes found Grimmjow's reflection in the glass wall. The blue haired man was glaring at him, "Oh please," he hissed. Even though he didn’t like the taste Ulquiorra continued to slowly drink the beer.

 

            "That use to be my ma's car so shut the hell up."

 

            Ulquiorra's face was wiped clean of an incriminating smirk. He had been extremely certain that Grimmjow had slept with some insanely rich person to get that vehicle, ignorant of the Lamborghini's real history, and was curious about their identity. "Easy there... I hardly knew that was the case-"

 

            "Well if ya stop talkin' shit for two minutes maybe ya wouldn't step on that kind of a thing."

 

            With a heavy sigh Ulquiorra's eyes softened and turned toward the hard floor under the couches. A moment later he slid out of the wet black t-shirt he wore, throwing it down on the wooden flooring, and rested his skull against the couch's back. His poor posture, a comfortable slouch, with a beer in one hand was apparently a sight Grimmjow didn't think easy to look away from.

 

            "I apologize _again_ for wreckin' my gift," Grimmjow mentioned, giving the partly exposed and impressively pale body a once-over before returning to the book he'd been reading before his phone call.

 

            "That Jaguar cost a lot of money...and so did your hospital debts," Ulquiorra drawled, drinking more from the bottle. "...and so did everything else I did for you."

 

            "I earned ya more than double of what ya were earnin' without out me waggin' my ass and playing dress up in front of your camera and your friends' cameras. And _yes_ , I did keep track of how much _we_ earned." Grimmjow cocked his head slightly out of annoyance. "So other than the fact that it was money in _your_ bank account because _I_ was cool with exploitin' myself and taking a lower cut home than ya, maybe ya could find it in your heart to at least pretend it was my money too. I fucking earned it for ya after all."

 

            Ulquiorra was chewing on his lower lip, "Well it seems like now you are not _stupid_ enough to agree to a low cut of the earnings. How does it feel to have money?"

 

            Grimmjow hadn't known what sort of response he would get but this was a mild sort, though 'stupid' wasn't a word Grimmjow liked hearing describing himself. "Ya were the dick who gave me a choice instead of bein' fair to begin with."

 

            Ulquiorra rotated the bottle, watching the beer swirl around inside. "What can I say? I wanted the money...and you made it easy to earn and take." Grimmjow seemed to have grown out of a foolish mannerism he'd had when they met - he was no longer unconditionally soft hearted. "We should have sex while we wait for that medical aid to arrive... I’m terribly bored." Ulquiorra suggested in monotone, as if he really didn't expect such a blatant suggestion to work.

 

            Grimmjow only shook his head, "Ya never give up, do ya?" He was feeling so anxious about today that he could leap at the chance to blow off steam...but not with Ulquiorra. No. That would just dig him another grave. From now until Isane rang his penthouse's buzzer there was silence for a little over thirty minutes. Ulquiorra finished his beer and punched out on the couch, napping, and Grimmjow continued his reading…probably the closest thing to peaceful coexistence that they had shared for a long time.


	32. Flashback - Possessive Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: seeeex

 

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

_“_ _Flashback – Possessive Love”_

 

 

_[The day Grimmjow accepted a job working with Ulquiorra...]_

            When Grimmjow stepped out of Ulquiorra's car and saw the massive building they were about to walk into he froze. "Holy hell...I can't go in there."

 

            Ulquiorra turned, car keys hanging in one hand as he straightened his dark black suit with the other while he stood beside the car. "If you still think this job sounds like 'fun' oh yes you are." He went so far as to start walking without Grimmjow.

 

            "Hey wait!" The blue haired man dashed to catch up.

 

            Inside the modern building, with tile and fine paint over the walls, they wove around hallways and took stairs upward. On one of the higher floors was where they stopped their climb and Ulquiorra took Grimmjow to meet some of his favorite coworkers.

 

            Amazed by the new guy, who stood with posture the most robust of them all, these friendly associates of Ulquiorra's were shocked by the unique younger man he had brought to them. They figured out quickly that he wasn't a city-born person like them by his deeply country accent and attire - faded jeans, plaid workman's over shirt, grey undershirt, tan workman's boots - but found him easy to accept because he was so damn friendly!

 

            Grimmjow's wide grin told Ulquiorra that he liked their attention very much, which made the slighter man twitch. Jealousy floated to the front of his mind. Joking around, hugging, kissing on the cheek, flirting... Standing back with a painted-on smile was all Ulquiorra could do to not rudely interrupt. Attention and acceptance was good for Grimmjow if he was going to work in this place as a model and eventually an actor. Ulquiorra understood that well, but all the mental preparation for how people would react to his lover - remembering how hard he'd personally fallen for Grimmjow's good looks and innocent charm - wasn't helping now.

 

            The point at which Grimmjow removed his two shirts and tough boots, at the request of a man who wanted to see which of them looked stronger and compare their height, was a breaking point of Ulquiorra's. After the comparison, and Grimmjow was deemed taller but not stronger, Ulquiorra stepped in.

 

            The respected director set a hand on his lover's broad shoulder with a misleading smile. Ulquiorra 'professionally' took his 'model' aside, ushering Grimmjow far down an unfinished hallway nearby.

 

            Grimmjow was, needless to say, very confused why he’d been removed so suddenly when he was making friends.

 

Once out of distinguishable sighting distance of others, Ulquiorra groped and sucked on Grimmjow's sweet, pure flesh as he forced the other man to walk forward. The taste made him impatient.

 

            Grimmjow just let it happen, still wondering.

 

            Ulquiorra was ravenously possessive in this. Almost half of the hired performers and directors here enjoyed multiple partners, including himself, but it was only to Grimm that he'd ever say 'I love you' with sincerity. Ulquiorra meant that, in some twisted way, but couldn't relinquish his diverse sources of sexual appeasement, especially when he and Grimmjow were together but _weren't_ sleeping together yet. Once he got around to collecting the younger man’s v-card he didn't care who else Grimmjow fucked, so long as it was him occasionally, but the first of this gorgeous man was going to be _his_. He'd earned Grimmjow's love and would be damned for life if anyone else stole that man's attention and slid their cock into him first. This was nonnegotiable.

 

            Grimmjow's body slammed against a smoothly painted stone wall in the next dim hallway, one that branched off from the first they'd followed. Stage apparatuses mostly surrounded them so the pair was lost in the mess of frames, cages, and mattresses. Grimmjow's hands might have been first to contact the cold wall but their leverage didn't prevent his chest from slapping against it. The cerulean haired fellow panted, feeling another grinding behind him, the curve of a large erection nestling itself into the curve of his ass despite thick jean material and underwear.

 

            Ulquiorra was dressed in a silky suit, one which made movement a little stiff. He licked around the hard muscles of his partner's exposed back as they tensed and hardened while the man below resisted his force somewhat. The cock confined in his black slacks was so prominent with need that the slacks seemed absent.

 

            "Not anywhere close to a bed..." Grimmjow huffed toward the wall, getting a sense of what Ulquiorra wanted.

 

            The matching jacket to the dark slacks came off and a lightly grey dress shirt below that was being unbuttoned. "Unless you want to be on camera for this, I figured taking you aside was the more dignified thing to do."

 

            "Well...why now?" Grimmjow asked flatly. He was a little nervous and an unfamiliar setting didn't help.

 

            "I am hard at the moment, do you expect me to waste that? This not an uncommon activity here." Ulquiorra fibbed very casually. Most of the messy events for this adult entertainment company were actually acted out on a set. Professionalism was a standard here but the directors could get away with ignoring that sometimes. Ulquiorra didn't give a fuck about that or company rules...or Grimmjow's discomfort. "I also do not like the way you were flirting with those people, or them to you."

 

            "I wasn't..! I was just bein' nice." Why did so many people confuse friendly behavior for flirting? There was a _difference_. A rather thin difference per intentions…but they still weren’t the same.

 

            Ulquiorra rendered Grimmjow a light smack on the side of his face. "Am I with a grown man or a child?" The struck man huffed at the temporary sting and ceased his asking of questions.

 

            Silenced for now, Grimmjow remained facing against the wall while Ulquiorra partly undressed. It felt like there was a pit in his feelings; his first time and Ulquiorra hadn't even asked if this was alright with him. Grimmjow worked out a way to blame himself for not being more vocal about his disapproval of the location before they'd gotten this far. The coolness of the wall soothed his forehead while his thoughts stewed. Behind himself he could hear a plastic package tearing, a condom he hoped. Closing his eyes for a moment soothed his worries, this was Ulquiorra he was doing it with. Not some stranger, a hookup, or worse... This was between two men who loved each other. One hand of his fell and focused on unbuckling the simple black belt holding up his faded jeans, making the process take less time.

 

            "On second thought..." Ulquiorra hummed, placing a hand on Grimmjow's shoulder. "I would like to see your expressions."

 

            Grimmjow's belt fell undone with a light 'clink' and a highly nervous charge raced up his spine. He figured with his back turned he could at least hide whatever awkwardness his facial expressions reflected. At least the dim lighting hid them some anyway. Teeth lightly biting at the corner of his mouth, the blue haired man turned around and dropped his back hard against the wall, hard enough to make Ulquiorra understanding of his rising discomfort. If that didn't send enough of a signal Grimmjow's arms crossing over his torso and that semi-frown he dawned shortly after sure would.

 

            Unfortunately the raven haired man was in no mood to be understanding; Ulquiorra matched the crossed arms with the same gesture. "I am not going to force you but _I_ brought you here to get you this job. Is that worth no gratitude?" He tried to administer some guilt to Grimm’s mind.

 

            Grimmjow felt some shame through his annoyance. "I know..." He was very grateful for Ulquiorra's help.

 

            "Can you not give me this one thing that I desire? After all I have done for you?" Luckily the sly man's approach to sexing-up the other man would include some gestures Grimmjow could misconstrue as comfort. Bittersweet. The well-pressed grey dress shirt was unbuttoned all the way but not taken off and it draped around Grimmjow's torso when Ulquiorra leaned in to lay a kiss on his mouth.

 

            Grimmjow's hands were quick to come up and cup the fine skinned face before his and put more effort into deeply kissing than other man was. It was part of Grimmjow's efforts to find the loving side of this. He wouldn't be perpetually sour for his first time...it had to be a special marker in his life. He didn't know why he wanted it to be, it just had to be that way.

 

            Bringing their mouths together was just a harmless task to keep Grimmjow happy, which succeeded every time. The lengths of their tongues caressed and wrapped as one. Their erections, still clothed and concealed rubbed the differing fabric of their pants together with help mostly from Ulquiorra's hips. Pale hands with long spindly fingers maintained two handfuls of his statuesque partner's butt. That ass was to die for; its rounded cheeks and perfect size... All this...all his... Ulquiorra massaged the muscle he craved to spear between, still holding Grimmjow against the wall with his decent amount of strength. Making the other body groan into the kiss with a thigh rubbing Grimm's crotch Ulquiorra unzipped the cheap jeans and pushed them and the boxers below Grimmjow's hips.

 

            Grimmjow resembled what models paid surgeons to cut, mold, and sew them up to be. His impressive form was totally bare after the pants came off, solid and perky pecs with erect nipples and the slopes of his abdominals and other muscles presented to the greedy Ulquiorra, not to mention his healthy cock. The next thing the taller male felt, interrupting his bliss, were unexpected fingertips touching his asshole. Not just touching but pressing. Grimmjow growled but his partner in this didn't heed to the sound. One plunged into the untouched canal, stretching the rings an opposite way Grimm had never felt before now. It didn’t exactly feel good… The finger didn't retract itself and slid back and forth, a warm body embracing him as it initiated the preparatory measure. Grimmjow shuddered.

 

            "Something the matter?" Ulquiorra finally asked.

 

            "It's fine..." the cerulean haired man answered in a quiet voice. It just felt fucking weird was all! The finger inside curled forward...

 

            "Good."

 

            Suddenly Grimmjow's hold on Ulquiorra began squeezing as that finger intentionally rubbed a sensitive target.

 

            The raven haired man could easily tell that his partner was trembling but the virgin hole was relaxing so he had no reason to stop fingering. In a way he felt sorry for Grimmjow; to look so sexually appealing but be so unfamiliar with the act of sex that this simple prepping was awkward. The finger eased from its pleasurable torture of the man's prostate gland and pulled entirely out.

 

            Grimmjow thought the treatment was over, but then two fingers moved inside and went straight back to that spot. What was that?! Penetration felt uncomfortable but rubbing against that spot washed partly over the discomfort. Maybe Ulquiorra was just a guru and knew where to touch him... For harder pressure against the spot he relaxed and made access easier for Ulquiorra's hand. Fingers stretched the opening and together rolled over that spot countless times making Grimmjow's breath ragged and body more lax. It was bizarre to him how something so _awkward_ could turn into... _this_ \- precise pleasure. Ulquiorra ceased the finger-fucking before Grimmjow's legs bent and collapsed him.

 

            Unhooking and dropping his slacks from his narrow hips, nothing worn underneath them, the pale man immediately went to placing the condom on himself. He did take moments while doing that to appreciate the straight hardness of Grimmjow's, erect beside his. Grimmjow was a bigger boy down there, which complimented his height nicely. Matching the natural tan across the whole of the Grimm’s body, the circumcised shaft was the same pleasing fleshy shade of tan. A bold ridge on its underside, healthy veins, and crowning its tip a slightly darker glans made it complete and very attractive. Grimmjow was also gifted with a naturally large sack below his cock, two heavy hanging balls. Coercing from Ulquiorra had made the man keep this sensitive area shaven, leaving only a neat trail down from his navel that faded before encircling his manhood's base. Small globules of clear precum were dripping from either man's cocks, one eager and the other nervous.

 

            Grimmjow wondered at the back of his mind if Ulquiorra would agree to a blowjob instead of this. The method behind wrapping Ulquiorra's penis drew his attention away from false hopes. Curious azure eyes followed how his partner was going to manage to get the condom over his uncircumcised cock. Grimmjow didn’t have that skin on him, and he’d never really seen how this worked so…it was an experience. Quickly getting the gist when Ulquiorra's eyes gave him a look and a nod down Grimmjow reached out and carefully held the foreskin back from Ulquiorra's glans while the condom was fitted over it. He was instructed to let go once it was and the skin situated itself comfortably under the condom from there. The colored plastic was rolled the rest of the way down. Despite better judgment Grimmjow laughed under his breath. When Ulquiorra's dimly visible eyes shot up he tried to silence himself but laughed harder. _'Fuck, he's pissed but I can't stop..!'_

 

            Trying not to be too annoyed, because if Grimmjow was light-hearted enough to laugh this would be easier, Ulquiorra gave a snarky comment, "I am a minute from _impaling_ you with this dick of mine, laugh while you still have the chance and breath."

 

            Grimmjow turned his head away as he got the last of his laughter out of his system, remembering that once the pale member was rock hard he wouldn't get to see the skin cover Ulquiorra's very pink cockhead like it did. Maybe he found an uncut penis a little more attractive and this was a shy reaction? No...he was pretty sure he was just amused. "I'm not laughin' to tease ya, that skin just seems like a lot of work." Nothing could deny that he was coming to terms with the situation, deciding that he would give Ulquiorra what he lusted for because he loved him and was loved back.

 

            Ulquiorra rolled his eyes, his penis's appearance was a regular thing to him so that remark was trivial. The man rifled through a pocket in his slacks. He took out lubricant in a small bottle and smoothed the slippery liquid across the protective condom, stroking the length of his cock several times. Then he used a strange syringe, with a short dull nozzle instead of a pointy needle at its end, to draw up some of the lubricant from his bottle. He offered the contraption to Grimmjow, its chamber halfway filled with clear lubricant. "Either you do this or I will."

 

            Grimmjow made a face at the unfamiliar device and shook his head, "I don't know what that's for, so...all yours pal…"

 

            "Turn around." Ulquiorra was quickly obeyed and made the other man lean up against the wall. He crouched down, spreading the muscled cheeks apart; Grimmjow began to fidget. Ulquiorra spanked one of Grimm's glutes before he set the syringe in place. "Behave...this is a measure to _help_ you." His partner settled down after being spanked, a disciplinary measure Ulquiorra often used to let Grimmjow know that he was doing something annoying that needed to stop. Unlike kissing though, disciplining was enjoyable to the raven haired deviant. The syringe's tip was just barely past that first ring of muscle when the plunger was pushed down. "Nothing strictly says that I have to lubricate you so well beforehand, so try to appreciate my gesture."

 

            Grimmjow hardly felt the substance shooting in as he watched over a shoulder. For an effective method of lubricating that sure looked a lot more awkward than it felt, clever device though. "I do appreciate it but this is a bit...weird...and embarrassing."

 

            When Ulquiorra stood up again he made Grimmjow face him again. The blue haired man, he could tell, was reluctant to move fluidly. "I think your attractiveness goes up when you get embarrassed..." Ulquiorra brought the taller man's arms over his shoulders and picked Grimmjow up by the hips, bidding the man to wrap his legs around his high waist. When the standing man had his partner comfortable, Grimmjow's back was helping to support his weight by leaning on the wall, Ulquiorra moved the head of his cock between the fleshy cheeks and began gradually driving himself in. He was anxious to feel that 'pop' when the ridge of his glans would be full-way inside.

 

            "Aaah..." The lifted man’s inexperience was showing as he winced at the stretching. It only got wider the further his lover shoved but the length did glide with some ease, a bit of the lubricant dripped out during entry. "Uuuh..!" Popping past the double rings of muscle its head rolled past the gland those well manicured fingers of Ulquiorra’s had touched before and Grimmjow's body arched, his sack clenching against his body and his cock poured out a full stream of clear precum out of half-pleasured and half-pained surprise.

 

            Ulquiorra's length had entered without much fuss, savoring reaping the purity of the tight canal he sheathed into. He wished he hadn't this condom on but by the time he'd pumped staggeringly slow in and out of the tight constriction once his foreskin no longer misbehaved, as his member reached its rock hard peak and the skin had flattened out with the expansion below his bulbous glans. He was now free to unleash heated corruption on this virgin; 'gentle' or 'slow' wasn't Ulquiorra's intention at all. He was just leaving his mark before anyone else could claim his stud's innocence. A few more pumps and the man began to thrust at a desperate pace even though Grimmjow was barely prepared for that.

 

            Grimm’s head hit on the wall, the nerves around his pelvis and right above his asshole were shooting with an extreme amount of pain that lasted a good minute or two...until it gradually switched to slippery friction and, sweat laden, Grimmjow found himself on a layer of heaven he'd not known to exist on earth. Ulquiorra had such a firm hold on his well-formed ass and his legs felt so secure around the raven haired man that Grimmjow didn't even bother to hold onto his partner with either hand, laying them  back against the wall.

 

            The cerulean haired man’s attractive erection and full sack bounced pleasantly as Ulquiorra roughly made love to his virgin stud. This was so tight! Grimmjow was such a virgin it _almost_ hurt him by the tense body and tightness. Having had virgins the few times he had before, screwing Grimmjow reminded Ulquiorra of the reason their purity was the craze for some pleasure seekers - their tight holes and priceless reactions. When the deeply emerald eyes glimpsed his partner's expression, to see what it looked like accompanying the groans and gasping for breath Grimmjow had going, he was particularly surprised to find the other man had adjusted and was riding it out in ecstasy. _'Built for sex...built for sin...'_ Ulquiorra's thoughts purred, aroused even further by Grimmjow's desperate noises and the sweat that began rolling down his heaving form. _'He will do just fine working here,'_ a final thought confirmed. After a few more minutes when his partner began to drop down as he thrust Ulquiorra managed words while himself heaving for breath, "Can you not get enough?"

 

            Head back, mouth open as he didn't have the sense to hinder his vocalizations, Grimmjow swore he would never go without sex after this. Never ever, ever for the rest of his life. Now he _knew_ he'd been missing out and for what it was worth maybe he should be playing catch-up. Grimmjow's gaping mouth remained open. "Every...night...uuh! We're doin' this every night, I swear..." he remarked with a quick laugh before moaning and gasps overtook his speech again. Grimmjow was discovering something of substantial importance. When he transitioned from having his picture taken half-naked to acting in pornographic films the reaping of his virginity now was almost a favor. "Uuuuh...!" They went at it for nearly an hour and forty minutes, changing position twice so Ulquiorra wouldn't tire of supporting the weight of another man for that long because their libidos just didn’t want to quit. The animal that Grimmjow was, he'd lasted twice as long as his lover – not having cum yet.

 

            The first time Ulquiorra came he'd totally filled the tip of the condom and found it uncomfortable to continue with. His partner was no longer squeezing his persisting erection so tight but sucking his cock in with every thrust, grinding it to its base. There was no area of skin around Grimmjow's groin, his balls, cock, nor the cleft of his toned ass that wasn't slippery with their sweat and fluids. No protest was given to continuing without a condom so for the next fiftyish minutes an elated Ulquiorra fucked his overloaded lover bare flesh against flesh. It probably felt no different to Grimm, who was thrilled to be fucked either way, but it was a world better to Ulquiorra, who heaved against his lover to blow his second load inside the surrounding heat. The raven haired man grunted and his hips jerked particularly firmly as he gushed out the final amount of seed he had in his pale swollen balls.

 

            Despite numbing around his stretched hole Grimmjow felt Ulquiorra's member pulse and bulge largely and just gave up holding himself back. "F-Fuck..!" He shot a vast mess across his own chest that even splashed up to his jaw when he finally released; it was everything he had all at once. Ulquiorra's hips finished their bucking after either climax and settled. Both men were in an after-sex daze for the next few minutes, clinging to each other and sucking at tongues and lips.

 

            Doubly satisfied, with two orgasms, Ulquiorra grinned smugly at the realization that he'd essentially split Grimmjow wide open with such a lengthy, rough sexing. Drawing himself out of his lover's body Ulquiorra was finished his taking, or reaping, of the other man's virginity. It was a satisfying fact. Satisfying in the flesh and the mind. After pulling out Ulquiorra generously went to fetch two towels, one damp and the other dry to clean themselves up with, not expectant of Grimmjow to fetch them because the man seemed hardly capable of supporting his own weight enough to walk.

 

            While the pale skinned man was gone Grimmjow sank to the floor, tough carpet, and looked around himself; his whirling thoughts weren't on the surrounding so much as what he and Ulquiorra had just done now that the heat of the moment was vanishing. His thoughts started to become more rational. The naked and smeared man placed his head in his hands and elbows against bent knees. He could actually feel the gape of his asshole right now and surrounding muscle's ache. He suspected he might feel this soreness for a day or two. Though for a minute he just breathed... Half of his clothes were still out there by the set...but he sort of didn't want to go back out there with other people after having done this so spontaneously. Grimm wished they had a bed to curl up on and sleep. When Ulquiorra came back with the towels the raven haired man was already cleaned up and his hair, previously ragged with sweat and exertion, was back in a foxtail and the black suit he wore was mostly straightened. Ulquiorra looked rather professional again, like nothing special had taken place in this space of time.

 

            "Can you get up?"

 

            "Eventually." Grimmjow's word was followed up by his searching gaze.

 

            "Good." Ulquiorra was _unphased_. He still savored the knowledge that he'd had Grimmjow first but it was a worry at the back of his mind now. He tossed Grimmjow both towels then wandered pleasantly up the hall without another word.

 

            All Grimmjow could think, as he quickly wiped himself down to get the sweat and semen off of body, was that Ulquiorra was just being temporarily unfriendly. Something dwelling in the cerulean haired man was angry though, a very quiet, very small part of his thoughts. It couldn't get any bigger because if it did...then he wouldn't feel as warmly devoted to Ulquiorra; he feared he couldn't love the man as much then. The mysterious anger was suppressed deeply. Grimmjow hiked up the boxers and faded jeans, buckled his pants, and put on a face; the very first seriously fake face he'd had to front despite his uncertainties. The steadied man walked barefoot up the unfinished hallway with towels over a shoulder and his hands in either pants pocket. When he came to the end of the hall the set area he'd been hanging out by was live, so he walked quietly for their recording's sake and turned his head looking around for Ulquiorra. His broad smile was halved when he saw no one he recognized. The next few hours were somber and lonely despite the crowds of new would-be exciting faces, but when he rejoined Ulquiorra at the end of the day to drive home the raven haired man was nearly toppled over by a crushing embrace from Grimmjow.

 

            The pale skinned, raven haired man took in the value of a greeting like this and hugged Grimmjow back with more effort than was usual for him, the usual wasn't much anyway. He didn't use such a crushing force as his partner was, hopping to encourage the strong man to ease up a little. "And you always act so tough...where is this sentimentality coming from?"

 

            "From my insides..?" Grimmjow remarked, thinking the question was weird for its asker. He shrank from the hug and smiled warmly, blue eyes peering at the pair opposite them with a searching quality.

 

            Grimmjow was seeking reassurance but Ulquiorra didn't catch that, though he clearly noticed intense eyes on him. "I see."

 

            Grimm’s smile shrank at the ambiguous, short response - suspicious that Ulquiorra was oblivious. Suspicious and faintly disappointed. That smile was only down for a moment, he forced it back up, not planning to hold the missed cue against Ulquiorra. The pale man had had sex far more times than Grimmjow figured he wanted to know about and maybe this unsettled feeling he was experiencing just wore off after so many times of doing it. "Wanna go out for a drink?"

 

            Ulquiorra gave Grimmjow a look of disapproval, "I do not feel like finding a bar."

 

            Grimmjow's smile couldn't help but fall again at the direct refusal.

 

            _This_ signal, this time, Ulquiorra was keen to and with a sigh he offered an idea that was more agreeable to himself. "That coffee shop where we spoke first..."

 

            Quickly Grimmjow's mood jumped up as he understood what the other man was about to suggest. His smile returned for good.

 

            "...it is a bit close to evening but a coffee would be nice to keep me awake for another few hours. That coffee shop is much more agreeable." The corners of Ulquiorra's thin lips were genuinely curling up, just a little but a slight smile was better than no smile. A little more time with Grimmjow, just two classy men enjoying coffee in the very late afternoon, that was how Ulquiorra thought their time was best used. "Will you drive me? You enjoy that task more than I do."

 

            Grimmjow's smile broadened to a proud grin, "'Course I will."


	33. Flashback - Rollover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: blood, angst

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

_“_ _Flashback – Rollover”_

 

 

_[One year after Grimmjow's employment with Ulquiorra began...]_

            "Grimmjow..." Ulquiorra leaned in the dressing room's doorway knocking lightly on the already wide open wooden door.

 

            Grimmjow swiveled around on his backless pivoting chair; he was halfway through removing foundation and powder that covered up his tired face. It wasn’t Grimmjow’s choice to wear makeup, he did so for work to boost the aesthetic. Both of the man’s brightly azure eyes were still outlined with dark makeup as well; they were electrifying. "Hey." A friendly smile greeted the man in the doorway, as Grimmjow was glad to see Ulquiorra in particular, thank god it wasn't anyone else.

 

            Ulquiorra returned the smile without doing much else from his position so Grimmjow faced the mirror again to finish the rest of his make-up's removal.

 

            Pads of cotton soaked with particularly effective makeup remover product swiped unceasing up his face until the last of the foundation and powder were gone. At last Grimmjow didn't feel plastered up anymore. "Sup?" he furthered because Ulquiorra was being so quiet.

 

            Instead of answering back right away with words Ulquiorra strolled up behind his lover, as Grimmjow inspected himself in the reflective glass, and laid arms over the man’s bare shoulders. Except for some kaki trunks Grimmjow wasn't wearing anything else, it was a natural look that did his sculpted build a fitting justice. A genuine tan and sloping muscles temped Ulquiorra and he kissed his lover's neck warmly. "You should leave the eyeliner on...it compliments your eyes well..."

 

            Melting a little because the kissing felt nice, Grimmjow's neck bowed limply. "But it ain't comfortable... Nnn...what'd ya want?" He put a forearm down on the desk in front of himself, supporting his slumping body.

 

            Darkly painted lips remained close to Grimmjow's long neck and dangling ebony black hair touched the skin he'd kissed.  "I _want_ you to speak like a properly educated gentleman but we cannot all have exactly what we would like, hmm?" Ulquiorra settled his chin beside the base of the thick neck. "I assume that _this_ ," he gestured to the cleaning products, "means you will be leaving for home early?"

 

            "Yeah, I ain't needed here for anythin' else so I'm gonna go sleep for a while."

 

            "Stay here with me while I work... The scene we are reworking is much more entertaining with that _real_ actor they sent us. He is a _professionally_ trained actor. You might like him."

 

            The words did little to spur Grimmjow, mostly just implied that Ulquiorra was trying to pass him off to another 'talented' or good-looking man again. Sometimes Ulquiorra just liked to watch... It was a creepy preference to get use to in the beginning, but after being involved more than once Grimmjow shrugged at it. Today he just didn't have the energy for it though. Blue eyes met Ulquiorra's in the mirror's reflection and he cracked an apologetic smile; it wasn't often that he refused Ulquiorra. "I'm _exhausted_. I got here at five this mornin' and I'd rather pass out at my place." The time was now one o'clock in the afternoon. After two photography shoots sandwiched around a 'sexy' skit, with a guy Grimmjow could only describe as one seriously chatty jerk, his bodily battery was dead.

 

            "Since you drove me here from that unclean side of town," the start of this remark quickly made Grimmjow frown, "I do not have my vehicle and I will not just ask imbeciles here for a 'ride home'. So you better be ready to pick me up when I call for you since you are planning not to wait for me."

 

            "'Course I'll be ready. I don't even mind waitin' around if I'm early." Grimmjow's frown just as quickly made its way out.

 

            Ulquiorra growled softly, unhappy. " _I_ would be the one waiting on _you_ , but fine… Go wherever you please." Partings were finalized and Ulquiorra, slightly peeved, left Grimmjow in the dressing room alone. The uppity fellow could have done worse, but thankfully didn't.

 

            Right away the Grimm went to rummage through a duffle bag he'd purposely hidden because it contained some clothing of his that Ulquiorra had tried throwing away. Despite not wanting to lose his lover, Grimmjow still refused to comply to close management. Sneaking clothing around was harmless compared to what other people kept behind their backs anyway. Out he yanked a loose t-shirt with a squirrel printed on the back in black and white - the animal was holding up two walnuts. Next were drudged up some plain faded blue jeans with genuine tears in the knees from being worn so often. Ulquiorra disapproved of the cheap humor of the shirt and the ragged state of those jeans, saying that they gave his blue haired partner the look of someone impoverished and lazy. Obviously the party wearing them didn't care, the blue haired man liked these. Grimmjow slammed on his comfortable clothing, packed all his stuff away in its places, slotted his feet into some white skater's sneakers, and bounded out of the dressing room with only his car's keys. He slunk the back way out of the building and sprinted a distance to the parking lot. Passing the group who usually held smoke breaks near their cars he pretended to be in too much of a hurry to wave. The sooner he was home the sooner he could crash.

 

            Though he never expected to crash twice in one day...

 

~

 

            The apartment's phone began ringing at five-forty in the evening and Grimmjow rolled over on the couch to reach it. The couch was a little less wide than he'd accounted for in his groggy state. After having fallen on the floor clumsily he knelt by a table beside the couch then quickly snatched up the receiver. It was Ulquiorra, and he was in a _bad_ mood. Grimmjow quickly confirmed that he would be on his way over in two minutes flat then hung up the phone. He didn't think to switch his clothing in the scramble and grabbed his keys, took a leak, and bounded his way out of a low-class loft apartment, his home, and descended into a garage. His residence was stationed above a hardware store and garage that had been out of business for several years now. A garage was built behind it, attached and was where the downward stairs from the apartment immediately led. Once these were family owned, but the elderly owner of both was since gone. Three years back the owner had passed away, generously leaving Grimmjow some of his things. He'd known Grimmjow came to this city with nothing to his name, known it since the day Grimmjow found this place. Needing a job so badly back then, Grimmjow had once upon a time sworn to work his ass off for one at the hardware store. The elderly man had been kind to help someone in need because he wasn’t in need of new workers, and Grimmjow had repaid that kindness by being as faithful a helping hand as humanly possible. Never had he left his boss in the lurch, _never_. Grimmjow admitted to himself that sometimes he'd felt like the guy's son and he didn't mind that. The city's government was supposed to claim the hardware store but Grimm was pretty sure they'd forgotten or ignored it by now. However the garage, personally owned tools and supplies, and the loft apartment were recorded in a deed as being passed off to a 'Mister Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez' upon their owner's passing. It was a kind and sentimental gift, this humble building.

 

            Now a convertible, an XKR-S Jaguar, was parked in the garage where old broken vehicles use to wait for their turn for another chance on the road. Every time Grimmjow stepped onto the concrete of the garage and heard his footsteps echo hollowly in the great five car space nostalgia for how the garage used to bustle overtook him. All sorts of memories, funny and stressful, gushed from here. He had just been a stocking hand and a 'fetch me that tool' boy at the start but he’d been taught more in time, and all and all it had been really nice to grow up a little more like that. Insightful experiences, he'd learned plenty and carried them with himself even now. Grimmjow headed for his expensive car, he had to hurry. Ulquiorra was not a patient man.

 

~

 

            Following the main road both he used to get to the building he worked in with Ulquiorra, Grimmjow came up on something that hadn't been here on his drive home. A hideous accident involving three cars blocked all but one lane of his side's four lanes. Traffic was backed up tightly and Ulquiorra was going to chew him out if he was delayed... Luckily the only open lane was the one farthest to the right. So with quick thinking Grimmjow decided to divert his route and take a narrow backstreet, even though he didn't know exactly where it would come out. He trusted himself to be able to figure where he was and anything was better than this near stand-still traffic. The Jag turned off the main road at the very next street he came to, followed by no other cars. The main road he'd left cut straight through the city so a lot of people unfamiliar with this older side of Florentine were mixed into the traffic. Grimmjow however had experience with the backstreets around here. He still felt anxious following the narrow pathway between buildings until the street opened up past aged brick buildings. The setting afternoon sun quickly met him as the convertible crept out of the tight space into a wide dirt lot surrounded by untended weeds, plants, and trees. Realization swept over him… Grimmjow knew this place! He looked around and saw the exits of other one-way backstreets that bled into this unused lot. From one of those he'd accessed this shortcut before.

 

            The convertible Jaguar's roof lowered and secured itself in back. All of the windows rolled down and then the car crept forward again. Late summer's warm air had invited him to inhale without hindrance. Aaah…so refreshing. This shortcut was perfect to feel the air, the space around was so open and untended but lush for being in the middle of a city. This lot was behind the large city buildings and had a road that one could follow across town. The Jaguar crossed the dirt lot, headed toward the road that wound behind all of the buildings. Here there would be no oncoming cars, no traffic; this area was of no use to the general public anymore. The pilot of the vehicle licked his lips, stopping again just after the back wheels of the Jag had rolled onto the barely cracking asphalt of this older street that had probably once been beautifully paved. Grimmjow still deemed it good for use. His groin's appendage was stiffening...anticipating. He couldn’t help it, the charge he got from being at the wheel of a capable vehicle whose engine and controls were just thrilling. After a deep breath admitted summer air to his lungs the Jaguar launched forward with a delighted cry from its driver. He let the car out of a neutral gear and laid hard on the skinny pedal once the RPMs were high and the vehicle was swiftly on its way. The tires gripped the pavement well and Grimmjow paid attention to follow the curves of the road as he navigated. He was no paid racer but he knew how to put a vehicle in motion and did a splendid job of piloting them. All around Grimmjow, as he thundered over the faintly cracked pavement, were scraggly plants and run-down buildings, unable to be seen from Florentine's main roads. This forsaken place he'd visited more than once to race the Jaguar, not to compete against anybody, just to feel the vehicle move. Police didn't monitor this run-down area anymore. In its hay-day this district used to be a capital place of industry for Florentine when the city was blooming but had lost its supremacy over manufacturing when more modern establishments were founded as the city’s population densified. Grimmjow was just fine with that. The unfortunate industrial shift meant he had a scenic race track. The open space... The vines clinging to buildings... The gnarled leafy trees... This felt like the land he'd grown up on. Just like home.

 

            Up ahead, and he knew it was coming, was an active railway that ran directly behind the buildings near to where he was employed as a model and actor. The railway tracks were still in use thanks to demand for large cargo's transport; that was cargo which was too big and thus banned from common roads. Until he saw this railway coming up on the road's horizon Grimmjow knew he could cruise smoothly at whatever speed he wished, but today there would be a surprise that he couldn't have known was waiting for him.

 

            Rocking a hard-on and nearing the high end speeds for such a winding road, Grimmjow's hundred mile an hour hype suddenly declined when he came around a curve and noticed a dangerous feature ahead on the road. A wide crack in the asphalt spanned the width of the road and was probably half his tires' height in depth. This hadn't been here last time! _'What the hell?!'_ He couldn't imagine a worse buzz-kill nor anything more dangerous. To either side of the road were mature trees. Going over or around those would be impossible so he had no escape route; he would _have to_ stop the car. Gritting his teeth Grimmjow cursed his carelessness and stomped the brakes but it was really too late. The crack was too close and he was going too fast. As the Jaguar drifted at a slant toward the deep crack Grimmjow fought it the whole way. Smoke and the smell of roasting disk-brakes and rubber... He pulled up the emergency brake gradually as he realized that the wasn’t going to get stopped. Even the emergency brake wasn’t enough to bring this vehicle down to even fifty mph before dropping into the wide gash in the road. One front wheel smacked into the sharp rise of asphalt after falling into the pit. The airbags on either side deployed and Grimmjow was battered in the face. Trying to shove the bag down, blood coursing from his nose, Grimmjow heard loud snaps and grinding then realized something horrifying. The asphalt he'd been driving on was coming overhead… Grimmjow stopped fighting the airbag and threw himself across the console and clawed at the passenger's seat to keep himself inside the car as it smashed down on the pavement. His seatbelt made this painful, especially when the Jag slammed against the ground and the buckle jabbed his hip. The vehicle was flipped over at a slant, rolling over at a sideways angle more than once before hitting the banked railway some yards ahead, smashing the windshield to bits. The car was upside-down.

 

            Grimmjow's fingers had made holes in the passenger’s leather seat and his torso had broken off the gear shift in the center console while being jostled mercilessly. When the car had finally stilled Grimmjow noticed that his neck and sides were horribly stiff and he was definitely inverted as gravity pulled at his back. There was hardly any light around him as he was now boxed in under the wreck. It was hard to fathom all of what had just happened. As his hearing began to return to him the loud horn of the Jaguar's car alarm came through. Grimmjow tried to stop his trembling from shock but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. His hands fell away from the passenger's seat and his head bumped painfully against metal tracks under him. The airbags weren't in the way anymore, they must have torn or burst. A deafening whistle sounded over the car's alarm in the distance...

 

            Squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing them to get bits of dust out Grimmjow barely noticed the second bellowing sound as he dangled, strapped against what was left of the driver's seat, in a hunched position. He reached to touch what he'd hit his head on, it hadn't felt like the road's asphalt but when his fingers made contact there was shattered glass and metal… The distant whistle came again. In that sudden alarming moment Grimmjow realized his bearings, coming to recognize the railway tracks around the windows’ shattered glass and that deafening sound. The metal piece of his seatbelt that inserted into the buckle was bent and as he pulled it refused to come out. He wriggled desperately to work his way out of the strap that held him in but there was hardly space to move, untangling himself from it was being proven hopeless. His thoughts flooded with panic. What the hell was he going to do to get this seatbelt off?! He looked around for anything, _anything_! Nabbing a glass shard, probably what had been one of his mirrors, Grimmjow sawed through the tough polyester webbed belt and ignored how the jagged glass cut into his fingers. After a panicked minute he fell free.

 

            Driven purely by adrenaline and fright he twisted around in the cramped space, the crunching of gravel and glass under him, to slam his driver's door with the heels of his shoes so it might swing open and give him a space to crawl out of. There was no other way out short of lifting the several ton Jag and for a mere man that would be impossible. The metal of the door scraped unpleasantly across the metal tracks after several hard kicks among weaker ones and the cerulean haired man hauled himself out of the total wreckage on trembling forearms and knees. _'Can't stop moving...can't stop moving...can't stop...'_ his desperation urged. Grimmjow drug himself out of the wreck and a few yards away from the overturned Jaguar and rolled onto his back on the scorching paved road he’d come from. Breathing erratically the blue haired man held a hand above his face to block out the blinding sun…glass, blood, and dirt were imbedded into the trembling fingers of his hands. His whole body shook in terror. Laying there stunned Grimmjow tried counting limbs he had by moving them. The terrified and bruised man waited as long as his consciousness allowed for the metallic crunch of the train ramming his car to ruin it further...but that sound didn't come before Grimmjow blacked-out.

 

~

 

            An hour later the surviving man was roused by being loaded onto a gurney, strapped down completely and uncomfortable, then shoved into the back of an ambulance. Staring past his feet Grimmjow's blurry vision glimpsed some of the wreckage. One tire and parts of the Jaguar's suspension and drivetrain were in the gash of the street which had caused all of this.

 

            When that lone front tire had hit the steep rise of that dipping gash in the road with all of the momentum and weight forced against it the rubber had popped and the axle hub and rim had folded under and snapped. The vehicle itself though... Only shining pieces of plastic, metal, and glass lay on the area where the Jaguar had stopped its roll on the tracks and a train-car was parked in its place.

 

            Dazed, Grimmjow thought that he might be imagining things. Sirens were blaring and people outside talked loudly in tones that sounded slurred to him. The medical staff shut the doors of the ambulance. That was the last time Grimmjow ever saw anything of that convertible Jaguar. Silently he felt sorry that he'd driven it to its death and been the only one to survive, but he was so relieved to be alive...so relieved...

 

            The blue haired man’s eyes rolled in their sockets and the medical woman who was about to strap an oxygen mask to his face exclaimed to the three paramedics in front, "He's conscious!"

 

            Grimmjow felt the mask strapped on roughly but securely to his bloodied face, crusty blood below his nose and elsewhere, as the ambulance jostled and began to move. The paramedic in charge of him pulled back his eye lids to shine lights in his eyes and all sorts of other annoyances. He was sedated, making his reactions limited and dull so that he couldn’t whirl into panic and create more injuries on himself. The woman's face hovered over Grimmjow's as the dazed blue eyes blankly monitored the direction of the ceiling.

 

            "Can you speak, sir?" the paramedic asked.

 

            Grimmjow's stare remained empty, not having realized he'd been spoken to but realizing something else. "Ulquiorra's gonna kill me..." he mumbled under the mask.

 

            The paramedic's face inherited shock. A man who had survived a hideous rollover without a roof on his car and dodged a train was saying that someone _else_ was going to kill him… She had no chance to say something back, Grimmjow passed out again in the seconds following.

 

~

 

            The next time he awoke was in a comfortable hospital bed. Feeling like he had to sneeze he noticed something was up his damn nose. Grimmjow sat up slowly then slid his nasal cannula out, sneezing abruptly afterward which made his sides ache. Grimmjow lifted an arm and rubbed his eyes, an IV was stuck in his right hand which he left alone. 'Aching' and 'groggy' were mild ways to describe how he felt upon waking. Searchingly, Grimmjow looked around his bed… White and dim, that was the theme of this small simple room. Another bed like his was beside his but it was empty, no neighbor. _'I'm still breathing,'_ his thoughts pressed. Grimmjow's head pounded dully and the man's vision sank. His bed sheets had been flipped back which left his gowned self exposed. His left leg lay wrapped in thick gauze with braces secured around his knee. The right one was thinly wrapped with gauze around his knee. As he reached to touch the brace he realized that his left wrist was unbendable, encased in a different type of brace. A small brace taped against his nose... A burning against one side of his ribs... A stiff neck... He had a lot of injuries. This was some awful damage, he wouldn't be able to work- Work! Ulquiorra! He had to call the man and tell him- Tell him what he'd done... Fuck that was going to be a dreadful conversation.

 

            Despite his pitiful physical situation, a groggily conscious Grimmjow swung legs over the bed and yelped as his left knee prickled with pain. So much for pain killers, huh? Any they must have given him had probably worn off or weren’t powerful enough to subdue the ache. Somehow the cerulean haired man managed to get himself off of that bed, ditching all tubes that hung on him. Blood from the hole his IV's needle left made a stream down his hand until he found cotton balls, gauze and medical tape in a cabinet. He’d left blood on the floor and the cabinet fixture. _'Where is everyone?'_ he began to wonder. There were no doctors or nurses around… This wasn't how hospitals were supposed to work. They weren't self-serve facilities. Grimmjow finished with his hand, almost admiring how many scrapes they'd dutifully taped gauze pads over with further inspection of himself. There were a lot. He wondered what they'd done with his clothes.

 

            Grimmjow borrowed the blanket from his bed, noticing that the gown left a line of his back and butt exposed to the air-conditioned chill of the room. With the blanket wrapped around himself he was going to find an attendant and beg them for some aspirin and a phone. He _had_ to call Ulquiorra. Grimmjow limped to the door opening it and looked out into the hallway. Right-way of his door he quickly found a cold green stare.

 

            Ulquiorra was sitting on a chair beside the door and looked up when it opened. The stare maintained itself calmly as Grimmjow broke free from a stunned-surprise at seeing him and with a few quick but painful steps Grimmjow walked over and dropped to hug him. Ulquiorra lifted a single hand and patted Grimmjow's arm.

 

            "Ya must've been waiting for hours for me. I'm _so_ sorry," Grimm mumbled into his lover's pleasantly scented clothing before letting go and drawing back so that he could see the man's face. It really did hurt to be crouched like this. "I did somethin' pretty dumb…"

 

            "You _demolished_ a hundred and fifty-thousand-dollar – a gift from me," Ulquiorra elaborated.

 

            Grimmjow let his hands move away, grabbing for the door frame for support so weight wasn't on his injured knees. It was understandable that Ulquiorra would be upset about that too… The man really had bought him that car, and it was _really_ expensive. "I-"

 

            "I swear you are an irresponsible _child_ ," the raven haired man snapped, pitching a folded cloth he'd had on his lap at Grimmjow's gut.

 

            Grimmjow fumbled to catch the tossed cloth and in his hands it hung limply. It was his squirrel shirt, spattered with blood and small jagged tears. Grimmjow's mind fell flew into a mild panic; Ulquiorra was bound to be pissed about that too. "I'm _really_ sorry, Ulquiorra." the apology was rushed but genuine, "I really, _really_ am. This is just a stupid shirt, I'd never wear it around ya, and I was just enjoyin' driving your present is all." He hoped for mercy with two strikes against him. He'd forgotten the third.

 

            "You left me waiting for _hours_ at work," strike three. "With what _money_ do you think you will pay for your foolishness? You _and_ I both know that you do not have nearly enough to cover _any_ of this so naturally it falls on _me_!" Ulquiorra’s brows were angrily furrowed. “Do you think that money like this grows on trees?!”

 

            Grimmjow's mouth wordlessly cracked open as he searched Ulquiorra's eyes. The man was serious. Ulquiorra was seriously lecturing him over money before saying anything about being glad that he was still alive or saying anything remotely kind. Glimmers of anger twitched in Grimmjow's expression. _'Falls on him...I had a car flipped over on me. What the fuck?!'_

 

            Ulquiorra shouted, "Excuse me!" as Grimmjow turned away and shut himself up in the hospital room.

 

            The lock clicked and the door slammed in Ulquiorra's face. Grimmjow sank to the cold tile floor with his blanketed and aching back against the door. His stare forward now was empty, bloody shirt across his lap. Disappointment stung, and his want for the man outside the door was dead on the spot. Of all of the underhanded and less openly selfish things Ulquiorra demanded, what Ulquiorra griped about _right now_ was just too selfish. He'd expressed more interest in his financial loss than his own lover's fortunately spared life.

 

            "Jaegerjaquez, right now you cannot afford to shut doors in my face!" Ulquiorra snapped angrily. "The cost of this mess is outrageous by any standard!"

 

            "I'll afford everythin' without ya from now on..." Grimmjow croaked, still in his daze but processing the regrettable situation. This was it. Where the buck of his happy life in the city stopped. Abruptly. "Fuck off! And leave me alone..." he rephrased in a louder voice. He would deal with this… The shouting ceased and he heard Ulquiorra's shoes clacking off in a direction away from the door. Should he cry now? He probably couldn't anyway, that wasn't something he usually did - crying. Grimmjow just felt empty and cold. He fingered the holes in the shirt. What had just so suddenly happened to his great life? This couldn't be real... Grimmjow took a shaky breath and got on his feet again. ...but it was real. He unlocked the room's door and limped back to his hospital bed. The comical shirt he hung over the footboard. Grimmjow carefully lay himself down on his bed again. Drawing the same blanket over himself he stared across at the empty bed beside him. He wasn't just empty right now...deep inside he was very lonely...but he denied that. It was too painful to accept.

 

 

            From this experience on, every vehicle Grimmjow would come to own had its seatbelts torn out. He would never have any love for Ulquiorra again either. Though devastating at the time...he found out that disappointments only linger for so long. They evaporate into better things when a person does not give up on their life. In time various situations brought Grimmjow away from this dim past and closer and closer in time toward someone who would care about his life, love, and well-being above everything material.

 

Ichigo.


	34. Flashback - Carter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: n/a  
> Secondary disclaimers:  
> I do not hold any ownership of any Nissan vehicles mentioned nor do I profit from their mention. All mentioned Nissan vehicles © Nissan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As response to a query about permission to make fanart for Desire and Lust, I am ok-a with this. Anyone may. The fact that this story inspires people to want to make art is really cool and I would love that.
> 
> Also thanks to everyone who is reading along. Sorry for not always answering comments directly or super quickly. My attention gets a bit scattered these days to keep up with that.

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

_“_ _Flashback – Carter”_

 

 

_[Heart of Florentine city, Grimmjow is eighteen and has not met Ulquiorra yet...]_

            A few days ago he'd said goodbye forever to his crotchety old man and hitchhiked to the city. Life under a roof with his pap sucked, but leaving that behind made this bold venture worthwhile. He had his old school bag stuffed with mostly clothing and a book of city maps in hand. In his head were vague ambitions, centered around becoming someone useful or exciting in this new place. Being penniless was regrettable, but an honest job should be around here somewhere.

 

            Family issues which drove this son from home life weren't anything to do with schooling, though he was a dropout. Family fights, just father and son, usually surfaced over money and food. When his stomach rumbled aloud in class or while he was hanging out with a group of people sucked so much. That noise was plain embarrassing. People chuckled, an otherwise harmless reaction, but they had no idea what they were really laughing at. The combination of poverty and family issues made it tough to keep his friends.

 

 

_[A few months earlier, before Grimmjow's eighteenth birthday...]_

            Late one Sunday night on farmland ten miles from what modern men called 'civilization', a groggy middle-aged man, who usually slept all through the afternoon and evening on Sundays like this one, was disturbed during his snooze by the sound of laughter. Overweight, he had to rock himself to get up from his chair. The man stumbled to the farmhouse's front door. He flicked on a light and stormed out onto the porch. His eyes caught a flash of blue chasing a someone up the driveway.

 

            "What'n the sam-hell ya think yer doin' boy?!"

 

            A brown haired teenager skidded on his heels over the gravel to a full stop a few yards from the lit porch, petrified.

 

            The streak of blue, Grimmjow, took this opportunity to leap on the other teen’s back. "Gotcha this time, ain't I?" Seemingly he was oblivious that his old man was angrily staring them down.

 

            The other boy supported Grimmjow's weight for as long as he could before leaning back to get the blue haired attacker to lay off him. "What's the matter sir?" he asked politely toward the middle-aged man on the porch.

 

            "Not talkin' ta ya!" the father snapped, stomping his foot on the deck. "Blue!"

 

            Both boys jumped or flinched at the loud noise but Grimmjow wasn't so alarmed as his friend.

 

            "What'dya think yer doin' makin' all tha' fuckin' noise? Ya damn well woke me up from sleepin' ya did! Stupid boy!"

 

            "Sorry pap! Didn' mean nothin' bad. We were jus' playin' tag."

 

            His father scoffed, "Queers play tag jumpin' on each other like tha'. Git yer queer friend back ta his mommy and git yer stupid ass back in the house."

 

            "But pap!" Grimmjow pleaded.

 

            "Now goddamnit! Fuckin' now!" He stomped again, moving forward and threatening to come off the porch.

 

            It was scary, even when both boys knew they could outrun him. The brown haired one turned and began to walk up the driveway first, away from the porch.

 

            "Tha's no fair pap!" Grimmjow grumbled defiantly, remaining in his place. "Ya always sleepin'. That mean ya don' need some extra sleep, ya already got plenty!"

 

            "Shaddup! I didn' sleep at all today with yer damn racket ta git ta school this mornin'!"

 

            Grimmjow's fists balled up. "We was jus' playin'!"

 

            "Get a damn move on, boy! Else ya be sleepin' with one eye open tonight 'cuz I'll git my good leather belt!" The large, angry man with thick dark hair stormed back into the house and shut off the porch light leaving Grimmjow to catch up to his friend in near darkness.

 

            At least the walk up the driveway was long, he wouldn't have to say goodbye just yet. Grimmjow ran up behind the brown haired boy and jumped on his back again.

 

            "Hey! What the hell're you doing?" the second kid hollered, staggering to support the weight for the second time.

 

            Grimmjow laughed and got off so he could walk beside him. "Jus' havin' a bit'a fun is all."

 

            "What was your dad talking about? We don't have school on a Sunday."

 

            "He likes ta make things up. Makes 'im feel better, an' he's not my 'da~ad'. He's my pap. There's a difference."

 

            "No there isn't, 'dad' and 'pap' are the same thing."

 

            Grimmjow cleared his throat, "Uh, no they ain't." The teenagers reached the end of the driveway where this truer friend of his had parked his car and Grimmjow continued explaining, "Ya see they seem like synonyms but they ain't."

 

            The use of the word 'synonym' correctly in Grimmjow's sentence made his friend stop fiddling with the car's door lock and his keys.

 

            "'Dad' implies someone ya look up ta and happy things. 'Pap' refers more ta the disrespectful side of 'dad'. Tha's either he's a disrespectin' son'uva bitch or person callin' him's a disrespectin' son'uva bitch. Either way ya wan' look'it, someone's meanin' disrespect when they say it. So 'dad' is the nice word an' 'pap' ain't. Talkin' 'bout a differen' type a person makes it a differen' word. Kinda like colors. Ya remember Ashley from forth hour right?" He waited for a nod, once given Grimmjow continued, "Remember how she got up from her table an' tha' short-ass skirt she was a'wearin' kinda came up? Remember wha' we argued 'bout right after ya said somethin' ta me?"

 

            "You're on a tangent, but I remember."

 

            "Ya tol' me her panties were the tightest pink panties ya ever saw. I tol' ya they weren' pink, they were 'rose'. Same basic concept 'cept usin' a differen' word-"

 

            "Woah, woah. Hold on there." The brown haired teenager lifted his hands and gestured for Grimmjow to either slow down or stop talking all together. The blue haired kid had started getting philosophical and grammatical about panties of all things. "You're talkin' too smart for yourself."

 

            "Talkin' to smart fer _you_ , ya mean." Grimmjow settled his hands proudly on his hips.

 

            "Yeah, whatever. I thought, well... I thought you were something else."  Basically that meant he'd assumed Grimmjow wasn't very bright and was too embarrassed or nice to state that flatly.

 

            "Why wouldn' ya think I could talk smart?"

 

            Now the other teenager was pretty much backed into a corner. "Well, you don't...umm...show it, like _ever_ when you're at school. At least _I_ haven't heard those deep kind of thoughts from you before."

 

            "Well tha's 'cuz yer always 'round more people than jus' me most'a the time and bein' too smart 'round the wrong people like tha' gits ya hit, don' cha'know? It irritates my pap when I talk like tha'."

 

            "I feel bad for you and all but don't you think stalling will irritate him more? I mean that's why you're suddenly talking so much right?"

 

            Grimmjow felt his face heat up, "Oh, nah! He don' know where ya parked or even tha ya got a car. Clueless pap prolly thinks I'm really walkin' ya back home. He'll be sleepin' a'fore I git back ta the house anyway."

 

            "Does he know I live in the city?"

 

            "Nah, shoot nah. He ain't got damn clue where anybody 'cept himself's from. Prolly wouldn' have the energy ta care a bit anyway. He jus' gonna go back in the house ta his sleepin' chair, like I said."

 

            "Well if he doesn't care why don't we finish tag out here where he can't hear us?" The brown haired teenager abandoned the car door and dropped his car key back into his pocket giving Grimmjow a slap on the back of the head before darting a distance away. "Or are you too wuss about him finding out?" he called, form blurring into the darkness of the night.

 

            Teasing was unwise when it came to Grimmjow, he'd never backed down from a challenge. "I ain't scared!"

 

            The brunette beat against his own chest with two hands, "You should be on the goddamn football team with that habit of tackling you have, only they don't like _wusses_!" He was bolting down the dark road in front of the farm's property before Grimmjow knew it, hardly able to be seen anymore.

 

            Following the voice Grimmjow gave chase, "Carter! Shut it will ya?! I'll kick yer-"

 

            "You are scared! What'd you care if you're yelling too?!"

 

            "Fuckin' punk! Stop yellin'!"

 

            "What?!" The brunette's voice was distant by now.

 

            "Said stop!" Rapidly gaining ground the next thing Grimmjow knew he and his friend collided in the varying darkness and either boy fell down opposite the other. Grimm rolled side to side on the gravel howling with laughter while his friend sat up and brushed the dust from his shirt after their collision. "No' that kind'a 'stop' dipstick!" Grimmjow managed between bouts.

 

            "Fucking ow..." Carter grumbled, rubbing a sore arm and squinting to see Grimm, "Was it really _that_ funny?"

 

            "Jus' a second ago I was tellin' ya 'bout differen' meanin's of the same kinda words..! Ya should'a taken me seriously..!" His friend started to chuckle, but it was only for a moment. Grimmjow guessed he might've ticked his buddy off but he could not stop laughing.

 

            "We're juniors in high school and we still play tag, do you really think either one of us knows when to take the other seriously?" That wasn't entirely true but it made Grimmjow laugh even harder.

 

            Grimmjow was almost in tears and trying not to thrash around from his severe case of ironic amusement. "Woul' ya jus' shut the fuck up a'fore I piss myself?!" The blue haired teenager stomped his heel on the ground several time trying to shut himself up. Eventually he managed to sit up, still snickering.

 

            "Still going to laugh at me for shit like this?"

 

            "Until the day ya die." Grimmjow snickered a bit but held back anything more as he got to his feet. "Let's head back. Goddamn...I think I bruised a bone with tha' fall," he joked. They hadn't rushed terribly far away and were back beside Carter's old Nissan in a minute or two with the moon having come out from a cloud to guide them along the gravel road. Grimmjow waited for his friend to unlock the door to the car. "Hey Carter."

 

            "What?"

 

            "Wha' happened ta tha' girl ya were always with? Both ya's were together, right?"

 

            "You mean Serena? We split up." Carter seemed to be fairly casual about brushing that off. "She wasn't my type."

 

            "Why come?"

 

            "Nosey. She only wanted to hang out and talk, never anything else."

 

            "Else? Wha' else would there be ta do?" the blue haired teenager asked with a scrunched expression.

 

            Grimmjow received a somewhat incriminating look that turned into a stare of disbelief when Carter realized his friend wasn't bullshitting him with that question.

 

            Grimmjow caught on to what the look meant and waved his hands, correcting himself. "I know there's _that_ but I didn' figure I needed ta flat out say it. Like it's already obvious."

 

            "Huh..." Carter responded skeptically, "It seemed like you totally forgot about _it_ there for a second, like _it_ wasn't important or something."

 

            Grimmjow didn't say anything back, he didn't know what to say. Girls were testy. If you nagged them too much or played too rough they'd start crying and then came revenge. They never let you get over anything conflicting. Guys, if they were good friends, could have arguments all day long and they'd just sort things out by fighting, forgetting, or forgiving. Those were his experiences. Add sex to the mix though and there was a world of worse hurt in stock. People were so sensitive about that one thing. So from time to time Grimmjow pretended ‘it’ didn't exist.

 

            Carter cleared his throat. "This is telling me something about you and I don't really want to say it because if it's true I might slap you on the spot."

 

            "W-Why would ya do tha'?"

 

            "Because if you're still a virgin after the way you smooth girls over at school that's just fucked up." The brunette began to laugh and shook his head. When Grimmjow didn't join his laughter Carter spoke up again, "H-Hey man...it's nothing to worry about." He wasn’t really going to slap him but Grimmjow's friend seemed to think he'd hurt the blue haired teen’s feelings. "You've still got time left before school gets out this year. It feels like forever when we've still got another year until we graduate, but then you've got that whole year to get laid too!"

 

            As a reverse of roles perhaps, Grimmjow lightly whacked his friend on the side of his head, "Dipstick, I ain't worried so much as yer makin' it sound. Geeze."

 

            Wanting to help before he just drove off and left Grimmjow to fend for himself with that nasty 'pap', Carter asked another question. "You've kissed girls before, right? Not like the ugly ones who get desperate, but the sexy sort I see you chatting up."

 

            Even if his words came out right his eyes couldn't hide it. Grimmjow just shook his head, "They're pretty lookin' but they give me the fuckin' creeps. Like they'd bite ya tongue righ' outta yer mouth if ya didn' treat 'em jus' right."

 

            "They would, but damn...you make it sound like you've never kissed a soul."

 

            "I haven', an' I know my ma doesn't count."

 

            Carter slammed the driver door to his Nissan closed and stood up straight, crossing his arms in front of Grimmjow. "Don't talk like ya want to _stay_ a virgin, man…"

 

            "I like smoothin' 'em over an' watchin' 'em laugh, but I don't need ta sleep with one ta be doin’ alrigh’," Grimmjow defended.

 

            Carter gave Grimmjow a stern look with half of his mouth curving down to a partial frown. "Not having sex now is going to fuck you up later...no pun intended Sir Grammar McHick."

 

            Grimmjow raised his hand as he would to whack Carter again, Carter flinched but the blow never came. "Not if I don' ever 'ave it in the first place, it won'," he affirmed with a snort.

 

            The brunette gave his friend a quick shove as payback. "Dude, I'm telling you it just doesn't work that way. One day you're going to have a need for it and the older a girl is and the older you are the more she'll expect you to know what you're doing."

 

            "Not like it's impossible ta figure out. I won' need it though. I _can_ figure it out."

 

            Carter scoffed, "You can't just jack-off through the rest of life and think you'll be ok in bed, _dumbass_. 'Figuring it out on the spot' doesn't work for everyone." Grimmjow scoffed and that only made Carter more determined, "You have to do it with a girl eventually. I mean who's left? Other guys? That can't happen."

 

            "Not sayin' I woul' wanna, but uh _yeah_ it could."

 

            "Uh _no_ it couldn't. Physically impossible. Do normal guys have pussies? Nu-uh."

 

            Grimmjow stuffed his hands in his dirty jeans' pockets. This was turning into a conversation he didn't want to be having. It was uncomfortable, considering the private war his mind had been waging over this topic for a year or so.

 

            Carter suddenly yawned, feeling the late hour catching up to him. "Not yawning at you by the way," he remarked, scratching a hand through his short hair.

 

            "Nah I know ya aren', jus' wonderin' why ya ain't left yet if yer tired."

 

            "I'm keeping you away from that crazy-man you live with, and you're going to complain? I think you should just ditch him. Get as far away from here as you possibly can or come to my house. I'll drive you to school and you'll be like the brother I wish I had. How freaking cool would that be?!"

 

            "Real cool. It's jus' ya'd git into bad trouble, like legal trouble, fer harborin' another family's kid if they run away ta yer house."

 

            "Where'd you hear that?"

 

            "Government class."

 

            "You actually listen?"

 

            "I _am_ smart 'member?"

 

            Carter wiped the surprise from his face, still getting use to the fact that his seemingly dumb-hick friend wasn’t actually dumb. They stood still for an awkward moment; the moon overhead phased from being exposed to being behind clouds and back again. Carter had set his hands behind his back and leaned against the Nissan. "You know...I'm bisexual, right?"

 

            Grimmjow's azure eyes lifted nervously. "Wha's tha' suppose'a mean?"

 

            "That means I could teach you how to kiss so you don't fuck up with your girl. It's like...the first step."

 

            Grimmjow tried to act repulsed, like he figured a straight-laced guy who just found out his best friend might've been eyeing him would. "Wha's yer fuckin' pro'lem?! No ya can't fuckin' kiss me!"

 

            The following look of shock across Carter's face was wide eyed shock but instead of morphing into shame it changed into anger a moment later. "Don't pretend like you're straight and angry like the rest of those assholes at school." Carter jabbed a finger between the two of them, indicating a mutual understanding which he knew for sure was there. "You and I both know you're seven steps ahead of those guys." Watching Grimmjow’s fake repulsion faltering Carter scoffed before he continued. "Don't get the wrong idea about this though, I just don't want my good friend to be clueless later on if there's something I can do about it now." Half an uncomfortable minute later Carter heard the crunch of gravel. He didn't look up until Grimmjow had laid hands against the car on either side of his head. Grimmjow's eyes were bright, azure and almost lights themselves with dull moonlight catching in them. Carter stayed positioned as he was, leaning against the closed driver's door with hands behind his back, and Grimmjow brought him a kiss. Tender and friendly.

 

            It was something of an apology, not just the 'practice' Carter had called it.

 

            A tongue ghosted across Carter's top lip before Grimmjow moved his head back, and the teenager against the car door found himself smiling. Dang, this blue haired country hick sure was 'lover-boy' material. Carter wasn't looking for love but this almost converted him.

 

            "See? I know wha' I'm doin', dipstick."

 

            "Yeah sure..." This time it was Carter who moved forward only he wasn't so subtle as Grimmjow and right away called for tongues. Apology accepted.

 

~

 

            Farther into their futures neither took any intimate steps toward the other past this night but their kiss was a sweetness either would remember on various levels for years. Carter went on enjoying mostly girls and the two drifted from each other as friends who have little time together often do. The finalization of their time around each other was Grimmjow's drop-out before their senior year started. It was obviously disappointing to Carter when Grimmjow showed up at his house during the beginning of fall just to let him know of that. His final memory of Carter was a tight hug and a grinning face wishing him 'good luck' with where ever he was going. It would be hard to forget Carter, but he sure made an excellent sentimental remembrance.

 

            It is necessary to love friends, and to be friendly with a lover.

 

 

_[Eighteen year old Grimmjow in Florentine...]_

            Cities sure were so fuckin' huge... Grimmjow turned his map of the streets as he walked, jacket closed tightly around him to keep out the fall chill. Buildings had more than one shop in them here and countless parallel parked cars seemed like the guard rails for roads. Where were all the parking lots, and normal houses? Even the area his old high school was in and around where Carter lived had regular houses. These skyscrapers weren't going to be easy to get use to. What if one of them leaned into another and a chain of them fell like dominos? That was the heart of the city though; this was compact living. Grimmjow walked beside an all glass building, a restaurant from the tables and waiters inside. Expensive cars were the only sort parked anywhere near it. He sighed, smiling as he passed the main doors and glimpsed the hosts gathered around the front desk inside and read the restaurant's name printed on the doors. The printing was fancy but mostly he wondered if the writing washed off in the rain. Being slow made him cold so Grimmjow picked up his walking pace. Did the fancy people eating in a restaurant like that still like burgers and peanut butter sandwiches like everyone else? They sure didn't seem normal like everyone else. Could they have the same tastes? Grimmjow gave the building one last glance as he went farther up the street, dodging people on the wide sidewalk. Did he want to be normal or did he want to be rich?

 

            There were plenty more glass windows on buildings that Grimmjow would pass and get to peer into on his way. Bookstores, cafes, jewelry and clothing stores, galleries, factories. He named it and this city had it. Exploring took the rest of that day to wander into a less modern side of the city where the buildings were a more comfortable height. This area had more brick on their buildings than wide glass. Feet aching because of shoes not made for walking, Grimmjow found his way around and was eventually staring into the dirt splashed window of a hardware store...with taped up pictures of classic vehicles drawing his attention.

 

            An older man, with no hair to speak of on his head and bushy grey eyebrows opened the store's main door on his way out and halted in the doorway to watch the youth. Clearly this one was taken in by the pictures. The man looked toward the window then back at the blue haired kid, whose focus on the pictures wasn't shaken. "You lost, son?"

 

            Now Grimmjow looked to the elderly man, not ignorant of him. The pin on his shirt said 'manager'. Grimm cracked a smile. "Cool pictures gramps. I like those muscle cars but 'em classic sports ones is real hard ta ignore."


	35. Flashback - Motor Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: mechanical shiz ahoy

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

_“_ _Flashback – Motor Head”_

 

 

            When Grimmjow was eight or nine years old there were buildings on his childhood farm that his pap had told him to stay the heck away from, but like any curious son Grimmjow just couldn't do that. 'Don't' translated to 'this place is interesting, check it out'. He'd gone into the farthest storage building from the farmhouse during a sweltering afternoon and poked around at all the farm tools, boxes, and one moth chewed tarp that covered a curiously large object. Among the heavily dusty item a vehicle which he uncovered below that tarp gleamed with something beyond just its metallic paint. It tugged at the core of his being. Engineless, its sleek appeal was no less… Inquisitive, Grimmjow found out that the Lamborghini was his ma's by going through memorabilia in the farmhouse's attic, another place he wasn't supposed to be. With only empty warnings, his lazy pap didn't monitor Grimmjow close enough to get his boy to stop snooping around in the past. Before the father’s death, a year after Grimmjow left, his father never did find out how much his son knew about him and his wife.

 

            Grimmjow had gone back to his family property several times _before_ bringing the Lambo out to Florentine. During previous trips he'd cleaned the vehicle, fueling system especially, and bolted in a new engine, a V8. Putting an engine in the _back_ of a vehicle that was integrated with a rear transaxle was not something he'd had experience with so that had taken time. Were his efforts worth the trouble? Absolutely. One test drive later he'd known that for sure, but his ride was a far cry from perfection...

 

_[A month following Grimmjow's Jaguar accident...]_

            It had been one hell of a trip...driving that precious Lamborghini to Florentine from his childhood home. An expired license plate had been Grimmjow's smallest concern. He'd had to tote _all_ of his necessary toolkits with him to work on the thing because there were none on that damn farm; that vehicle probably wouldn't have been left as a dust catcher if there were tools to fix it around. The most relieving part of this project so far was the fact that his family inheritance included the title to this Lamborghini. Apparently when his ma had been committed the title fell to his pap; then when his pap died provided that Grimmjow was eighteen and eligible for inheritance of his family's junk it _all_ fell to Grimmjow. There were no obvious debts with that inheritance thankfully. At least some things had a way of working themselves out without exhausting effort.

 

            For consecutive weeks after breaking things off entirely with Ulquiorra Grimmjow had been dwelling in his garage attached to the out-of-business tool store, a haven much more welcoming than the outside world... The exotic man wished to forget people, not the entire world, just some persons residing in it. ...for a little while. The previously forsaken Lamborghini with its isolated status, which he had rescued it from, and himself would make a fantastic pair. Grimmjow made it so and brought the machine to the huge garage.

 

            Grease and dirt...hardly any of him looked clean after a while. Oil, grease, dirt, and grime saturated Grimmjow's mechanic coveralls and his hands, his neck and most of his exposed skin while he worked obsessively. The only four reasons he ever left the garage during these months: running errands, to relieve himself, to sleep, and to eat. Nothing else. An important understanding he kept remembering revisited him now and again as his own thoughts were the only human company present: that the money he had to live off wouldn't last forever. He'd worked on the side, without telling Ulquiorra, and those earnings were directly placed in savings which he was now burning through. There was a literal case of money hidden in a floor safe under the garage. That money was all his to spend however he liked, but the longer he took the closer to negative it would be guzzled.

 

            When a clever man meets a vehicle and wants that vehicle to become a powerhouse he modifies the engine...and everything else. A balanced system is created. Right now Grimmjow had stock parts and a stock, engineless vehicle. Custom parts were on their way. Also, since the last time he'd ratcheted on this Lamborghini, at fledgling nineteen years old, he'd now grown four years smarter. Three years of work for the garage and hardware store owner learning techniques and tools. One year of work with Ulquiorra marketing his body between now and then hadn’t detracted from his knowhow.

 

            It was within four crunched months that Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez turned this engineless Lamborghini into _his_ balanced powerhouse with scarce amount of breaks and an avid passion akin to fanaticism.

 

            Grimmjow drafted perfectionist's planning, multi-layered diagrams of exactly what his project would become. Permits and qualifying for safety, emissions, and drivability certifications stacked his paperwork pile high, and there they sat until his project came to completion and could be tested.

 

            Use of a truck and car hauler he rented from a former customer of the hardware store became a regular tool as an errand runner and temporary transportation. What was he supposed to use otherwise? Carry everything? That cheap method just wouldn't cut it this time.

 

            Series of classical rock, old and newer pop, country and country western, and metal bands played in the speakers hung around the garage pretty much twenty-four seven. It was all 'get up and go' sort of music. Grimmjow needed that extra kick to get done, and his CDs combined with the multitude of cassettes his late-boss had left him thankfully meant he'd only hear the same songs repeated once and a while.

 

            New parts came in ahead of schedule, as he'd preordered what he could. The Lamborghini's body was sliced, expanded six inches and widened in different areas and an improved, custom locking system was installed. The chassis’s modifications required no small amount of intelligence to measure and to implement. Grimmjow fortified the gaps he'd opened up with steel then to create a skin he matched the rest of the body by using custom cut carbon fiber and aluminum. He was careful. Flaws on the sleek skin of the car would undoubtedly show.

 

            The drive train, formerly a rear-engine transaxle, was replaced by a more powerful, capable of higher torque, front-engine transaxle setup with new u-joints so that it could handle the torque he predicted. The car would remain an all-wheel drive. The transversely situated engine now sat just ahead of the transaxle in the front of the sportscar. Space was made for a narrow backseat and the old engine compartment was used partly for that and partly for trunk space. The Lamborghini still did present its original sleekness, even without its finishing touch - paint.

 

            The supposed, and more practical, purpose behind literally reconstructing this machine was to get a smooth and familiar system preferable for himself. All components from every system were checked, seals and bearings and worn parts replaced as needed, still functional parts were cleaned and lubed before slotting back into their assigned places.

 

            Aside from the ram air intake and twin-screw supercharger that were in place, there was more expansion to be had in terms of intake. A high flow intake manifold. Grimmjow also needed the exhaust to move with less restriction so the great amount of inbound air wasn't wasted. Custom 'weird-tube' headers were what he ordered and he called them 'weird' because that's exactly what their design was. Their shape was 'uniquely bent', more kindly stated, and while they coiled around the engine their long selves all collapsed together on one side of it where exhaust exiting the engine converged into a specifically sized merge collector to encourage scavenging - the pressurized method of pushing exhaust gas out of a cylinder to draw in fresh air. Installation of the intake and exhaust weren't easy because some of the custom parts still needed further modifications to be fitted in.

 

            Internal combustion. To create more bang with the air available combustion increased by modification to a new two-hundred and ninety-degree performance camshaft, the hinge for the gates to engine cylinders itself, and its timing which meant the valves would stay open longer - also encouraging scavenging. Grimmjow had calculated and adjusted the timing of the camshaft himself, only a small amount of change, but whether retardation or advancement of the timing from the 'straight-up point' would be better was just something he'd have to drive his vehicle to find out. He started with slight retardation, to heighten the power curve. This change of increased combustion also implied the creation of volatile and higher volumes of waste exhaust. If the emissions weren't good he couldn't legally drive the thing, so that surely needed to be held under control. The bright side of the coin was his car's model already accommodated dual exhaust and a catalytic converter which could handle its stock 6.5L engine so all he needed to do was get the exhaust to reach its exit point without harming the waste gas's velocity, incinerating the converter, and of course make sure that the converter was still alright for use. Grimmjow hoped to god that he was right in figuring that the partly stock exhaust could handle this new system. He could always alter the exhaust if the vehicle didn't pass emissions but he really didn't want to do it twice so he triple checked his work the first time. Somewhere, into all of this, fit a fresh air filter and exhaust wrapping as well.

 

            The cooler an engine could run the better. A cool engine was a pleased engine and a pleased engine was easier to coax into producing more power. His ma had driven this vehicle often, judging by wear on some parts, but it didn't seem like she'd ever had maintenance done on some of the most distressed parts. The old water pump was worn-out, Grimmjow had to get a new one and a new timing belt. Along came a custom ordered intercooler with a high flow water pump and cooperative high flow heat exchanger. After discussion with the man over the phone whom he was ordering it from a large ice-water reservoir was added to the bill. The below ambient temperatures of that reservoir could add a cool kick to Grimmjow's ride.

 

            Further improvement of fueling: a larger, more capable carburetor came into place - fresh and clean to provide just the right stoichiometric level. Grimmjow knew better than to have left gasoline in the vehicle when it sat unused so flushing the fueling system wasn't grueling. He detailed the engine, cleaned and/or polished every intimate part of it outside and inside. Music on the high end of the volume knob and tools laid everywhere a foot could step was a fine setting. He never verbally uttered to the Lamborghini that it was his pal, but Grimmjow treated the machine friendly enough. Something about working on it was serving to heal the man, and that made him feel great attachment and affection toward it.

 

            Having been stored in a building the vehicle had no worrisome rust or corrosion like outdoor weather would bring on. In its storage the remarkable machine had been lucky enough to be nonetheless preserved...but perhaps the intent had been more to discard and forget it rather than to keep it stored safely. Much of the electrical wiring Grimmjow replaced anyway, just in case something about the old wiring harness caused a problem. The whole Lamborghini began coming back together. Nuts and bolts over threads and pieces to their respective partners. Grimmjow frowned at the electrical, sensors and wires in all. Electrical routing... Manuals and articles on ‘how to’ that he'd read be damned…the task of routing all of the damn wires and electronics in this car was a task that just couldn't be depicted well enough on paper. Not to mention he had no way to reprogram the car's brains, the ECM, to understand its build.

 

            About the only thing that Grimmjow ever accepted direct assistance for concerning the rebuild couldn’t be helped… The mostly constructed Lamborghini was hauled to a specialist to check on his electrical work after attempting it to the best of his abilities. The specialist would help him learn how some things should be hooked up. This specialist, a curly haired dame with a _booming_ loud voice, taught him basics to specifics about high-performance and custom sportscars like his own. No two custom cars would ever be exactly the same though. Wires connected to valves and sensors. The wires transmitted electrical data for timing and volumetric measurements to microprocessors responsible for thinking, sensing, and controlling just about everything about the vehicle at an efficient and safe level. Grimmjow got a look at his Lamborghini's electrical from the ground up and listened well when the woman explained about wires' origins and goals at the destination as well as basic necessities from basic wiring to expanding upon the basics. Sure you could hook the wiring harness up and not give a crap about what things did and maybe fry a few things by trial and error but Grimmjow felt he needed to know and he couldn’t be wasting his resources, money, or time. That sense of responsibility was an extremely good thing with a project this enormous. Heavily modified vehicles were odd-balls and needed a lot more care and precision than the average car to function on any basis. The woman programmed the Lamborghini's ECM with Grimmjow's preferences in mind. He had a second control unit, aside from the main brains, that was only for sensing and regulating fuel and air intake - a mix that he wanted to keep very precise. She took care of programming that one too. This was not an inexpensive lesson, but Grimmjow categorized the knowledge he had now less literally as 'priceless'. He returned to his home and fell asleep with facts still reeling around in his head.

 

            In days following Grimmjow replaced more seals and filters, did an oil change, scraped electric contact points, cleaned parts, and lots of busy prep work - not necessarily in that order. One thing always seemed to call for attention to another. When things were totally prepped, machinery and electrical, he fed the tank a moderate amount of gasoline and hooked up a battery. Anticipation gnawing at him, Grimmjow slid into the driver's seat with the garage doors partially up to let out fumes. The key turned and his Lamborghini snarled awake, sucking in its air and fuel, then rumbled at an idle that sounded suitably dangerous. It was almost unreal to hear it come alive. The purr given off wasn't a perfect one at all but just the fact that the Lamborghini had started was enough to stun Grimmjow for some profound minutes. He wasn't stunned dumbly, but he was amazed. He followed up the new excitement by running cooling and compression checks, skeptical of his good fortune. The checks revealed that his vehicle was stable and drivable.

 

            Now Grimmjow got paperwork recognizing the Lamborghini as a soundly running vehicle. It was time he saw the exact statistics of his reconstructed creation. Grimmjow took the Lamborghini to a precision performance tuner. A dyno tuner. Skeptically they asked him questions about the modifications and looked at the Lamborghini while biting at their lips nervously but it was more than once they’d seem a vehicle die on the dyno-meter. The doubtful techs checked the vehicle for any mechanical issues and engine compression, which they expected to find some but didn't amidst the clean, precise way Grimmjow had reconstructed the car. It was because Grimmjow was intelligent, knowledgeable, precise and had taken his time with the assembly. Sparkplug temperature was tested and seemed acceptable, then the distributor was recurved. They did warn Grimmjow improvement on mileage ratio wasn't going to be great and he reinstated that he was looking for power not more miles to each gallon. After the recurving, the Lamborghini's wheels were set on the dyno machine's rollers. Strapped securely, the car settled in, straps rechecked, and it was tested first at weak, short intervals by the techs. If the techs felt secure about exerting and tuning a car like this they really weren't showing it now.

 

            Grimmjow questioned their reluctance and apparently they'd really seen more than one 'sure-looking' car's disaster when the RPMs and torque were really kicked up. He'd signed papers that released the techs from responsibility if certain issues occurred but it wasn't like the thing hadn't been driven a bit before this; illegally but the Lamborghini had been broken in by Grimmjow. Grimmjow gladly strapped himself in for the pulls that he'd paid for on the dynamometer. He'd driven it on relatively deserted drags which he knew of beyond Florentine and the machine didn't so much as wheeze with its modifications and initial tuning but...he knew reading a machine with computers giving them numbers to followed based on present performance was by far more accurate and relevant. Techs caught readings for the three pulls one after another, no really large problems but some computer driven adjustments to the ECMs were made between the pulls. Grimmjow's Lamborghini had displayed exceptional torque with a stable engine and the levels that the female tuner had set the brains to rolls with were very close to ideal. The techs finalized the tuning by giving Grimmjow a folder of sheets of paper with his readings and emailed him copies and some pictures. It was the least they could do for charging a small fortune for their services. This data was something he would read entirely and carefully when he got really, really bored… The tune Grimmjow's custom Lamborghini hummed now: effectively powerful. Grimmjow hauled the Lamborghini away from the dyno shop on the car hauler, satisfaction lifting his posture and spirit for the homeward-bound drive. All of his fascinating, aggravating, tedious work was now completely rewarding in the payoff.

 

            The four months were closing out now. It was nightfall, the dusky haze coming to blanket a city that would soon be mostly slumbering. After the dyno tune Grimmjow drove the Lamborghini off the car hauler and back into his five-car garage. He exited his creation, leaving it on to still run as he got out. The car didn't move but it loped and rumbled with eagerness in park. The high-performance camshaft really did make this thing rumble. Grimmjow tucked his hands inside his pockets and stared into the unlit headlights, eyes gradually moving over the hood to the windshield and looking in on the empty seats. This thing still wasn’t painted…but mostly he was thinking about having someone to ride with. Would that be any fun?

 

            Within the next days pieces of the Lambo came back out for window tinting, which Grimmjow managed very well on his own, and painting which he let someone else take the lead on because it was better to let an expert take care of one of the most obvious features. Previously the Lamborghini had been painted sky blue. The new paintjob would just cost a looooot of money. Worth it. Using a lift the empty shell was set onto the car hauler. He was sorry to dismantle it so soon but the thing needed paint on its seamless surface to look as good as it ran and to keep out the weather. Paint wasn’t just pretty, it had a function – protecting the material. Grimmjow pulled the empty shell to a guy who'd heard about his crazy endeavor and wanted to offer a fair deal on the onyx black paint job for the body. It was still expensive but a little more fair. Grimmjow found out, upon arrival, that the guy had actually been a man who knew his former boss, the owner of the hardware store and garage. This fellow and his crew did fine work on everything; Grimmjow had seen them paint for his old boss. They lived and breathed automobile paint...and maybe that was poor for health but the deep engrained understanding made them phenomenal experts in their trade. Grimmjow stayed for the painting, even helped some. If learning was a drug...he was definitely addicted and privileged with these opportunities.

 

            With his Lamborghini's body in the drying phase at the painters' shop, Grimmjow was now about to find something _outside_ of his garage to stare at. He'd been thinking... If a man had the means and intelligence for a total overhaul like this on his future ride then so be it, but in the end he can't go _mad_ and call it a wild success. That just wouldn't be acceptable and lately he had been feeling the nip of loneliness. Well... _that_ and his libido rattling his chain. It was about time he jerked off to something other than his thoughts and porn magazines.

 

            Preventing himself from losing his shit after months of nothing but measuring, fitting, ratcheting, welding, cutting, and other things as well as in the end feeling exhausted satisfaction...Grimmjow would reintroduce himself to the concept of leisurely 'socialization'. It would be preferable to find someone to roll on the bed with but he wasn't going to get his hopes up before he knew what was around. Thanks to his time working with Ulquiorra and the adult entertainment industry he wasn’t very shy anymore. Not far away he recalled some club, 'H.E.X.', that he passed a lot on his comings and goings from the building he called home. A sign by this club designated it as a classy adult entertainment club with a bar and by the lack of similar establishments local to him, Grimm figured that H.E.X. was worth investigating despite it being the most convenient choice he had.

 

~

 

            Again....it was dusky as the night began to sweep across Florentine in its vastness. For the evening Grimmjow dressed himself in a smooth black button-down shirt, dark jeans without tears, and black dress shoes made with rough leather and short heels. In his closet he'd thumbed past a black suit that Ulquiorra had tried unceasingly to pressure him into wearing. Grimmjow considered what he should do with it since he didn't care for suits. Sell it probably. His measurements were about an average man's size and the suit was in good condition...and the extra money couldn't hurt.

 

            Stumbling down the flight of stairs from his loft apartment Grimmjow swore under his breath. He wasn't use to heeled shoes. He was lucky that he didn’t scuff these. Still cursing Grimmjow shook out a jacket he'd snagged before walking through the garage when he felt his eyes pulled upward. He looked around, the echoing 'clack' of his heels finishing. He was still. The garage resonated emptiness without his Lamborghini, which was away at the paint shop drying, looming on jacks and glaring 'finish me!' over and over, but that wasn't exactly why Grimmjow stopped walking so suddenly… It was just him in the five-car space right now...wasn't it? His azure eyes tracked the path he used to take past the tool drawers to the hardware store's door, and for a long minute Grimmjow stared as his mouth spread slowly into a smile. A wetness blurred his sights and he blotted it away with his sleeve before it could drip down. "Thanks boss..." and Grimmjow left his words at that, thoughts buzzing and gratitude brimming with the realization of what the gift of this place had done for him. He flicked off the light switches on the panel by the door to get outside and closed it, still wearing a persistent smile. A click echoed inside the garage as the door shut and if Grimmjow's boss was watching over it he'd been smiling back proudly the whole time.

 


	36. Flashback - Alternative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: sexuality, mentions of nudity and sex

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

_“_ _Flashback – Alternative”_

 

 

            A four-door Ford truck turned into the parking lot belonging to H.E.X. and stopped in the nearest spot to the front doors, which was easy because there were only five other cars parked in some one hundred spaces here. It must be a slow night for this club; it was the middle of the work week and very late... A classy dressed man, one wouldn't have guessed to have been covered head to toe with grease some hours earlier, stepped out of the tall truck and shut the driver's door with a mildly loud 'bang'. Keys rattled aloud as he crammed them into one of his dark jeans' front pockets where he could always find them.

 

            Grimmjow gazed at the short building here. H.E.X. was shorter than surrounding buildings for sure and compared to more modern buildings in Florentine. A dwarf at best. No bouncers stood outside of the doors on this crisp evening, but he could see their shoulders inside the glass of the door. They were tall and imposing as capable bouncers should be. Grimmjow patted a pocket for his wallet, which was there, and left half of his hands in both front jeans pockets as he made for the door. When he tugged one side open by a handle one of the large bouncers turned. The loud club music and dim lighting immediately met Grimmjow, but it was a background to the two men in his way. After some seconds spent staring, probably just judging Grimmjow on some superficial level, the turned bouncer's studious face relaxed.

 

            "Ghot an ID son?" The bouncer’s accent was heavy.

 

            It was an extended thought to wonder about what this bouncer had deduced from his time staring. Grimmjow displayed his driver's license, flipping his cracked leather wallet open, for the man to read it. "That's all me. Honest," the blue haired man almost sassed as this bouncer seemed disapproving of the grainy picture, or something else...

 

            'Blue' the word was printed beside 'hair color'. "Yhour hyair es...'blueh'?" the bouncer tested with a look of disbelief as his eyes rolled up to stare at Grimmjow's face. The other bouncer behind him cracked and subtly raised a hand to try and hide laughter; he was supposed to be tough and composed. ‘Blue’, as far as they knew, wasn’t a legal hair color on a driver’s license.

 

            This would be the first time someone had ever called Grimmjow out so blatantly over his identification strictly for that reason. "Did ya wanna see the rest of it as proof?"

 

            The bigger bodied man lifted an eyebrow. "Fyake IDs und confidance dun't gyet people into t'yis club."

 

            Grimmjow licked his lips and took a sure-fire step forward, bringing his face close to the thick goatee covering the bouncer's chin; this guy was a reasonable bit taller. The other man didn't move back but his eyes did narrow. Grimmjow's eyes stared down at the end of the man’s chin to avoid being too confrontational but his words spoke held an upward drift. "My ID's real. So's my hair. If ya _really_ wanna check, why don’t we run my card?"

 

            Obviously not overly intimidated by an advance the bouncer sighed and took Grimmjow by the arm, roughly guiding the classy dressed man to the bar counter against the same wall as the front door. It was probably done this way because Grimmjow was being direct and slightly confrontational. The second bouncer remained at his post and leaned against a support pillar, watching from the door. The bouncer with a goatee let go of Grimmjow's arm and reached for the bar's cordless ID reader. The bartender here seemed to notice but didn’t come over. Grimmjow's ID was pointed squarely at his face, "Youh areh gud at bullshitting I'll gyive youh t'at," the bouncer mentioned, his foreign accent bearing an amused undertone. He was very convinced that this exotic would-be-patron was lying. The ID reader turned on. The bouncer swiped the license and green flickered on the screen. The bouncer made a face, staring hard at the device in his palm and reading the details of the scan.

 

            Grimmjow leaned his upper arm against the tall bar, grinning. He knew what that card reader said before it even said it. He couldn’t even see the lights on its screen but that ID was so well made…

 

            The card swiped a second time. This was a reliable ID reader, this just had to be a really good fake. The bouncer with a goatee looked past Grimmjow toward the second bouncer who was gawking from his post. "Et scanned gryeen."

 

            The distant bouncer’s head cocked, "How..?"

 

            This bouncer set the ID reader back on the bar and looked at Grimmjow with his eyes narrowed again and mouth wordlessly neutral.

 

            Grimmjow's grin lifted a little more and he held a calloused but scrubbed clean hand out flat for his license back. "Ya gonna kick me out now for bein' exotic in an exotic joint?" The bouncer returned the identification civilly.

 

            Both bouncers were clearly still skeptics, but there wasn’t much that they could do if the scanner said that the ID was legitimate. "Dun't push t'at luck." After patting Grimmjow down for weapons, which weren't allowed, and finding none the bulky bouncer who had done the scans began to wander back toward the door. There really was nothing he could do about a man who hadn't violated the rules, but there was more trouble he could have given Grimmjow for sure yet...didn't.

 

            Unnoticed by Grimmjow a figure a short distance into the dim main room had signaled the goateed bouncer with a hand flick to leave the blue haired man alone after the scans.

 

            Exhaling that whole interaction, he gladly walked the opposite direction of the bouncers; Grimmjow followed the bar, seeking a place far from the door, wanting to drink without being scrutinized anymore.

 

            This long bar counter was really, _really_ long with breaks in its fine design here and there so employees behind it wouldn't have to walk all the way to one end or the other to get past it. It spanned almost the whole front wall, and while H.E.X. wasn't a tall establishment it sure was spread wide...but as the lacking amount of cars outside hinted hardly anyone was present tonight to fill it. In this dimmed main room one dancer was on a catwalk far from him. The music boomed for them alone it seemed. Offhand his ears were keyed into the solid bass of electrifying synthpop thundering against the floor and walls; the place must have been sound-proofed because he hadn't heard any of this noise or vibration from outside.

 

            There wasn’t a soul at the bar, hardly anyone sitting around at the tables, and maybe six people dancing their night away on a lit dance floor just across from where he chose to stop walking. He was on the curve of the bar's end farthest from the building entrance. Grimmjow slumped against the counter standing between two barstools as he faced the dance floor and watched the shadows of the people. The dull lighting, hazy like fog, made him difficult for anyone not close to notice. Just a shadow in the room... "Damn," he regarded the sparse amount of live entertainment. He was use to clubs with loads of people all bumping into each other and people he didn't know greeting and complimenting him. In comparison this was practically serene. For tonight only, after all his stresses in the garage, a serene feeling was just desirable. Despite the low amount of patrons the electronic music continued thrumming in the building's speakers as if there were a hundred people to project it to. Flashing lights that stilled for a few minutes at a time and became smoggy before traveling again and moving shadows from the lit dance floor kept his eyes at work watching them.

 

            "I know..." a sudden voice keenly sympathized, "We have been so under-stuffed like this _aaaall_ day."

 

            Whirling Grimmjow's surprise made his eyes wide. _'Who's talking to-'_ A bartender had appeared from nowhere!

 

            Right away the barman's short red hair hinted that his personality was full of spark. He’d actually been behind the bar this whole time; not just the patrons could be crafty as shadows… The man figured the wide eyes of this patron across the bar were sure to lessen once he introduced himself. "Klayton. Something I could get you to drink 'Sky'?"

 

            Expression recoiling to something scrunched, Grimmjow wondered why he was being addressed so strangely. "I ain't 'Sky'."

 

            "Your eyes are. Sky blue and clear as a cloudless day. I hope you don’t mind me saying so."

 

            The sense of the nickname came in a wave and Grimmjow began to laugh. "Because my eyes are so blue? Really? Ya think you’re pretty clever don’t ya?"

 

            "And I don't even have to try very hard." A wily smile assured the spark in this barman's personality. "Do you mind the nickname? I can certainly call you ‘Mister’ or something else that’s boring."

 

            "I don't mind."

 

            The barman grinned, definitely pleased. "And your drink?"

 

            "I'd like somethin' with a strong taste that's crisp without being bitter. Nothin' with wine or syrup if ya would spare me that shit..."

 

            "Not a fan of fake flavors? I can respect that, but wine...you're missing out. Allergic to anything?" Grimmjow had shaken his head 'no' so Klayton began to concoct a mixer behind the edge of the counter, looking up occasionally.

 

            "They ever let ya drink on shift?"

 

            "Nope. None of our staff are allowed." When the drink that the redhead was working on was finished it was passed across the counter on a napkin in the next minute and on the napkin was written 'Skiy'. "Looks more like a name that way you think?" the bartender mentioned.

 

            Grimmjow's eyes rolled upward to question him. "Fast as ya decided on that nickname…it's really gonna stick in your head, huh?"

 

            "Sure will, especially if you plan on coming here again. I’ve never seen you before. To be totally honest, I hope you do. I like your eyes and a good mutual conversation. Don't know about the rest of you yet but I'm sure you've got your good points."

 

            Amused thoroughly, Grimmjow fished out a couple of bills to pay so that he wouldn’t be tempted to run a tab and to tip the barkeeper, who tried to refuse the generous tip until it was sent fluttering to his side of the counter. It was well deserved; this man had made him laugh and the drink looked phenomenal.

 

            "I appreciate this," Klayton made sure to mention, folding the few extra dollars and setting them in a box behind the counter where he kept all of his tips - a smile on his face. "So you came here for a good drink or were you looking to get lucky?"

 

            "For the luck foremost, I guess. I'd welcome a lap dance or somethin' more, yeah." After tasting what was a cider mixer that the bartender had made for him, a seasonal cider that was absolutely crisp but not in the slightest enhanced with overly sweet syrups but a little boozy, Grimm relaxed by sitting on a barstool and continuing to sip the drink between sentences. "Before I walked in if I knew ya made drinks this good I could'a said I came here for both. Can certainly say that from now on." The beverage _and_ conversation were both extremely satisfying so far, he could probably say he'd even come here just for the company when it wasn’t very busy. "Doesn't everyone just come here to get lucky anyway?" To a degree he was testing Klayton's ability to respond. To another degree it was just conversation.

 

            Klayton draped a grey dishtowel over one of his shoulders and rested his hands against the surface behind the counter that Grimmjow could not see where he worked on drinks. "Well some of us _work_ here...so not everyone." A swift and funny refute. Klayton grinned as Grimmjow laughed softly over the cider. It was in this bartender's nature to really enjoy when one of his customers was in laughing spirits without being intensely drunk. "Are you a long-time resident of Florentine?" He was considering Grimmjow's country accent and 'ya's' instead of 'you's'.

 

            His everyday speech had easily ousted him as someone less citified to someone very much in love with his city life. "No, a few years though." Grimmjow didn't understand why Klayton cared, but it was harmless conversation. His accent had once been hugely different and difficult to understand, but that was long in the past. Only hints of Grimm’s original accent remained now.

 

            Klyaton found this answer compelling. "Then you're from another city or the outskirt lands?"

 

            "Outskirts-" Grimmjow's head jerked around when a commotion, the most human noise that had been made in this building tonight, sounded through the main room. Two bouncers as big as the ones he'd been privileged to meet at the entrance – but not the same ones - escorted an angry man to those same front doors, opened them, and pushed the man outside. Only seconds later the enraged man, a patron, yanked the doors open again and tried to stomp right back inside. There was a lot of yelling and all of the bouncers had to deal with him. Two entertainers that worked at the club, both men, were tailing after the patron who had been kicked out and cursing him out. "Somebody's last warning is up.." Grimmjow remarked, watching the spectacle. It was mostly one entertainer dressed in a robe, the second only wore a thong and was fairly reserved, who was cursing the patron out. Eventually the bouncers shoved the rude patron back out a second time and blocked the door. The bouncers encouraged the entertainers to go back to their business. As the robed man placed an arm around the one who wore next to nothing but a glittery thong they talked softly to each other and made their way back where they had come from across the main room. Thundering synthpop took over the atmosphere’s noise again.

 

            Klayton shook his head, disapproving of the ugly confrontation. "Some customers just do not like following rules."

 

            "So it's not just women-"

 

            Klayton cut Grimmjow off right there, "H.E.X. caters to _all_ sexual preferences and interests. We’re proud of it. The manager of the back is choosey about who's hired but he tries to have attractive and diverse entertainment. We want everyone to feel entertained here, even those closeted, or the curious who only watch." The barman winked. "Our manager tries very hard to find genuinely exotic and desirable people for our customers."

 

            Grimmjow rolled his mixer’s glass between hands. "Ya ever _that_ entertainment?"

 

            "No, no. The bar has always suited me better." Klayton smoothed his hands across the marble counter, fondly.

 

            Grimmjow soaked up the skillful barman's convincing honesty. He was a bit compelled to be talkative and honest about himself in this situation. It was the desire for human interaction which had drawn him here in the first place anyway. "I’ve never tended a bar but I used to model for pornography and act in adult films."

 

            Klayton listened closely, eyes lightened and widened. He'd already easily deduced that his customer was handsome and exotic, so that news didn't arrive as an utter shock. "Really?" This man sure had the face and probably the body for the spotlight – that was if ‘Skiy’ wasn't kidding around.

 

            Grimmjow continued on without sounding terribly excited, "Started out just modeling naked but live pornography paid me better. People try to be sneaky and push limits there too, unfortunately those are usually the managers and directors. Got into the habit of carefully reading _every bit_ of fine print before signing a work contract so I could keep conflict at bay. Most people get whacked out whenever something sexual and profitable is in their hands because they want to make the most of it. A contract is supposed to keep people from oversteppin' the arrangement through loopholes when ya aren't comfortable doin' with that directors might want."

 

            "Here we’re pretty fair, I think I can say. Our entertainers are the ones who accept or decline additives to their routines and I don’t usually hear hostility from the manager," he spoke with a sureness and a smile. "Our entertainers actually help write their own contracts because we want to avoid that dishonest side of entertaining. Pardon me mentioning this but…it sounds like the erotic industry didn’t suit you best..."

 

            "Live pornography didn't. Plenty of variety in the people ya work with. If the directors and the cast aren't total dicks ya have a lot of fun, but it was a lot of trouble. Got hard to just model without actin' in films for me though."

 

            "Honestly, I have my healthy share of porn week to week. Some things seem really exaggerated..." the redhead barkeep chuckled.

 

            "They are. What they regularly asked me to do is just project _every_ feelin' that would otherwise be internal." Grimmjow set his mixer down after sipping more, he was still much in favor of the taste. Certainly this was a drink for the taste not the alcohol, exactly what he'd been hoping for. "Can't say I was a fan of how much noise they wanted me to make and what they wanted me to do all of the time. It's difficult to keep a hard-on when you're turnin' yourself off or you’ve been filming for two hours." At least a handful of other directors had respected Grimmjow more than Ulquiorra ever did when he directed.

 

            Klayton slapped the bar counter once, "I'll bet it is. What a shame such a well-paying industry gave you so much trouble."

 

            Grimmjow lifted his right hand and pointed an index finger to the barman. "It pays the most willin' people the best money. It only pays you well if you’re a complete whore about it, that's the real sick part."

 

            "But it's a little bit like being a celebrity isn’t it?"

 

            Grimmjow’s hands folded together again on the counter and he shrugged. "People at parties and on the street stopped me sometimes, knew my stagename, asked if I was foreign, wanted a hug or a photo, and every once and a while ya get a stalker who just doesn't understand that ya really don’t care how much they know about ya, that ya might have somewhere else to be, and that ya don't feel like answering their questions your whole walk long. Nothin' like paparazzi, glory, or induction to the hall of fame, but I felt cool for a little while. It has some other obvious perks, like gifts I guess. A director I didn't like much brought me a two grand for gettin' his company recognized on the front cover of some popular entertainment magazine one time. Money’s the most useful gift they give you though." The blue haired man checked the bartender’s expression to see if the man was still following along; Klayton still looked widely interested so he kept talking, "I ain't shy to say that I was real good at my job. In the end though that director dictated most of the stuff I bought with that cash but I didn’t care that much. Money’s money."

 

            "Aside from money for nothing," Klayton inserted with a wink.

 

            "Only lazy folks." Grimmjow's mouth had cracked a grin and he was laughing. "I just prefer to _earn_ my keep. A sense of accomplishment and a more significant life's what I want for myself." He took another sip of his still unfinished cider as his barman basked in the interesting conversation. "This drink's got the best taste of _anythin'_ I've ever had from a bar before and ya made it in like...two minutes? How long ya been at this?"

 

            Klayton rolled his eyes side to side, "O~oh. Fifteen years roughly." The other man's face turned skeptical or amazed. "I am in my _thirties_."

 

            "Well damn." Klayton looked younger, _much_ younger, kind of like commercials' models who claimed to have ten years back from their creams and junk only Klayton was the real deal - naturally youthful.

 

            "You are impressively likeable Skiy. Our manager mentioned that we might close up sooner than usual tonight. Staff usually hang out for a little while before we all leave, would you like to stay and keep me company so I can make everyone jealous? I feel that I should mention that clothing is optional." That part was an obvious tease, if not faintly sincere. "Especially when you're drunk."

 

            Grimmjow scoffed and began to laugh, "I'm no light-weight but I thought ya couldn't drink…"

 

            "It would be off-duty drinking. It is a very important after-work activity."

 

            “Is this just a friendly offer or a pass at hooking up with me?” Grimmjow lifted on of his blueish brows, “I’m not offended, just wondering.”

 

            Klayton’s eyes widened a little bit, "I did not mean to seem like I was making a pass at you. Apologies, how terrible of me… That is not professional. Eh, the invitation is more for your excellent conversation. You’re interesting, and I kind of want to show you off."

 

            Grimmjow lifted the napkin with his nickname written down and reread it while thinking about what Klayton said.

 

~

 

            After the club closed, easrly indeed, Grimmjow and Klayton drank with some of the entertainers and staff, took turns embarrassing themselves on the catwalk with bad pole dancing. Their fun rolled on for hours into the morning. With some entertainers spending the night in the building because they were too drunk leave and didn’t want to call a cab, Grimmjow found himself not smash-drunk but rather elated. He'd never had the chance to goof-off this much with so many like-minded people before. Also no one here was trying to take advantage of him and everything was so obviously sexual but it was all in good fun. This was a phenomenal time.

 

 

            The music had been shut off a few minutes ago, after already being lowered before that. The remaining people weren’t dancing to it much anymore anyway. Grimmjow observed around himself in the hazy main room as the tired, buzzed, drunk, and some horny employees started branching off to themselves after so much group merriment. A random hetero pair of employees was having sex by the corner of the bar where he and Klayton had been chatting hours ago. Half-naked bodies of maybe ten napping entertainers shared the comfortable seats of booths against the wall adjacent from the bar. They were all breasts, legs, cocks, and flesh hanging out and content to be sleeping where they were warm and welcome. Along the bar awake but preoccupied staff were talking, kissing, drinking, and laughing. There seemed to be some good conversations still going despite the drunks. A pair of men on the end of the small group at the bar were taking turns leaning on one of the barstools and fucking. Nobody anywhere near them seemed to mind or be surprised by this at all. Pairs of people stood by the stages and poles, chatting to each other or kissing and touching without worry. Every interaction was very casual, sexual, and also very accepted.

 

            Smiling, Grimmjow figured that others in darker corners were also lurking about their own business. The casualness around him was revitalizing. Grimmjow had been included and not expected to match anyone else’s version of fun. He was able to just to be here and be himself. He was definitely kindred to them by nature. Seeing other people with tongues knotted, fucking, or displaying themselves bare was very interesting and not forbidden or sinful here in this sexual garden. Klayton's assessment of the cerulean haired man had correctly found Grimmjow a person comfortable with sexuality, and by the last hours of their fun here to all of these entertainers, bouncers, manager, bartenders who collaborated to run H.E.X. and were here tonight…he was already one of them. The exotic man fit in so well.

 

            Grimmjow lifted himself onto a catwalk away from most of the people. He touched the pole at its center and held on, turning himself around it. Beforehand with Klayton and others he'd been fooling around on the pole. At the time Grimmjow had purposefully been trying to be clumsy and silly next to the gleaming and polished object. Right now Grimmjow unbuttoned his classy black shirt all the way down and tossed his socks and shoes up the catwalk. He rolled his dark jeans above his knees and grabbed the pole with two spread hands and testing his strength he lifted himself around in a cartwheel. Grimm was surprisingly graceful about it. He guessed it was still a cartwheel if his legs went one side, over his head, and down again even if he was holding onto a pole. Graceful maneuver aside Grimmjow swayed a little from the extra alcohol he'd had as he stood next to the metal rod, contemplating trying that again.

 

            A slow clap came from behind the blue haired man and made Grimmjow turn quickly to see Klayton. "You should try more of that when you're sober. You could be really good."


	37. Man’s Gotta Do What a Man’s Gotta Do…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: violence  
> Secondary disclaimers:  
> 'Fuck Me Like You Hate Me' is a song by Seether. I do not own this song nor do I make profit by mentioning it.

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

_“_ _Man’s Gotta Do What a Man’s Gotta Do…”_

 

 

_[Roughly two weeks have passed leaving Ichigo without his close companion...]_

            The loud release bell of Karakura High School sounded all throughout the school and its surrounding yard. Students of all shapes, differing sizes, and years came pouring out of the doors chanting happily about the end of the school week. Fridays were always so uplifting, a small symbol of freedom. Ichigo, accompanied by several of his schoolmates including Orihime, Chad, Uryu, and Keigo, were amidst the fray and shuffling out of the school's doors.

 

            Keigo swung his nearly empty messenger bag around his neck, walking backwards with the group. "Aaah~ It's so nice not to need all of those stupid heavy textbooks."

 

            "You would do better to be studying in your spare time than spending it frivolously." Uryu scoffed.

 

            "'Frivolously'?" Orihime questioned, attracting the entire group's attention with her reiteration. It would seem that the meaning of the word eluded her. Exhaustion should be blamed, it had been a tiresome day at school.

 

            Momentarily stunned at the girl's apparent ignorance, unusual for her actually, the entire group looked to Uryu for clarification. The dark haired boy in glasses sighed heavily before reaching into his organized schoolbag for a dictionary.

 

            Ichigo commented sarcastically on his friend fishing for an aid, "Don't use words you don't know the meaning of, Ishida." Half of him was speaking in a jovial manner and half was slightly more serious.

 

            Uryu plucked the mini pocket dictionary neatly from inside his bag, "I know what the word 'frivolous' means! I used it correctly didn't I?" He held the small book out to Orihime as the group continued toward the front gate of the school past the student parking lot. "Simply telling her the answer won't do any good, a little searching commits things to memory."

 

            Eagerly Inoue snatched up the book and began to flip through the well-loved pages without bothering to tune into the group's ongoing conversation that blustered around her.

 

            "At least she knows how to read- guh!" Keigo's blunt comment was cut short by Ichigo's fist clunking him on the back of his skull.

 

            "You can be a real lunk-head sometimes, Keigo..." Ichigo growled, not appreciative of his friend's crude remark.

 

            Well Ichigo had never hit him for talking before, how out of character... The whimsical brown haired figure, Keigo, flipped around to walk forward like the rest of the group, rubbing his sore head and hiding beside Chad. "Hmmf!" Keigo grumbled from his safe spot.

 

            The group crossed the dusty dirt yard to cut around the mass of students lingering in front of the school. The group of friends stopped off to the side, closer to the parking lot, and looked over the many students gathering close to the gate. If any of them wanted to leave through the front gate, and not have to hop the tall brick fence encircling the school, they would have to wait for some of the students to disperse. It was bothersome, but this did happen on most Friday afternoons. It was possible to get out by way of the student parking lot but cars were lined up there too... At least they had each other to pass the time.

 

            Orihime was still flipping through the small dictionary, while Keigo and Ichigo circled around Chad, one trying to get their hands on one another. Uryu ignored the childish play and leaned over Inoue's shoulder to see if she'd found the word yet. "'Frivolous' starts with 'f' Inoue...not 'p'," he remarked noting that she was flipping through and getting closer to the back of the dictionary.

 

            "Oh! I wasn't looking for the word yet. I just think this book's so cute! It's fun to flip the pages, they're quite old and crinkly." The long haired girl beamed and then yawned, her sleepiness was more evident because of that.

 

            Ishida felt a spring or something in his head pop loose. "Focus! Focus is key..!" Uryu ordered, straitening his glasses.

 

            Orihime jumped at the command, almost dropping his book. Nervously she started searching, "Umm...ummm..." She began to sound it out, "Fr...friv..." Suddenly things around her had become so much more distracting. Ichigo's growling, Keigo's teasing, Chad's pleading for peace, Ishida's breathing down her neck, and that loud music from one of the cars in the parking lot. She was so tired, and hard-put to focus...

 

            "Frivolous! F-r-i-v-o-l-o-u-s!" Uryu barked, coaching his flustered friend into the 'f' section of the dictionary.

 

            Orihime began sounding the word out again, seeking the correct pattern of letters with half-open eyes. This book was cute but the tiny print of the words wasn’t making this any easier… Upon trying to focus a second time the volume of noises around her rose. She was determined, but dag-nab-it! They were distracting! Without mercy, the background noise continued to cause disruption. Keigo was bothering Ichigo about not driving his car to school today. Ichigo was hissing back something about it needing to be taken to a mechanic. Chad was still trying to play peacemaker, and then there was that music... She couldn't concentrate while listening. Music... '...you could have been the real one...you could have been the one enough for me...' ...and it was impossible to not to tune into. The lyrics and her friends' words bounced around and around in her head. In the next moment she clapped the book closed with a loud sound, nearly pinching Uryu's nose as he monitored her search.

 

            Ichigo and Keigo stopped quarreling and looked over, "Inoue, what's the matter?" Ichigo asked.

 

            "I want find this word, but everyone is making so much noise!" She pointed in the direction of the parking lot. The music was still booming loud and dropping a few rather unsavory words in its repeated chorus, '...fuck me like you hate me!' over and over amidst strong thrumming from its accompanying drums, guitar, and bass. The rest of the group hadn't noticed the obnoxious tune until now.

 

            It was one of those rich punks that thought they were hot shit blasting their stereo to deafen everyone in the parking lot just so that they could show off. Ichigo could vaguely see him in his fancy car, lounging in the reclined passenger's seat with his boots up on the dashboard. Different groups of girls were walking by to get a look at the rebel, probably attracted by the audacious music. They all walked away giggling. Idiots, they were just encouraging that guy.

 

            Keigo glanced at each of his friends, who were all staring unappreciatively in the direction of the sound. "WELL! I'm not going to stand for that! I'll help you focus Orihime-chan!" he chimed marching across the dirt and into the parking lot without a second of thought given to the consequences that this might bring.

 

            "Keigo-san! Don't!" Orihime delicately covered her mouth and stared nervously as her friend walked away from the rest of the group and swiftly crossed the asphalt and approached the parked car.

 

            Uryu straitened his glasses again, "He's going to get himself killed..."

 

            Ichigo laughed and set his hands on his hips, "So what? Pain builds-"

 

            "Contempt and angst," Ishida finished the sentence for Ichigo.

 

            "I was going to say 'respect', but whatever." The orange haired teenager faced away from the parking lot, chuckling as he imagined a slightly twitchier Keigo after the emanate beating to come. Why was he ok with this?

 

            Chad recognized a serious shift in Ichigo’s behavior. This wasn't like Ichigo...since when was his orange haired friend so impetuous? "I don't think that is very funny." Chad's deep voice hummed in its soothing monotone.

 

            "Then go over and help him." Uryu stated very sagely, rolling his eyes. "With you standing behind Keigo that's all the intimidation it would take."

 

            "It's just one guy and his music's bothering all of us now so we all should contribute if we’re going to do anything. Let's all go," Ichigo added in with a sigh to shake off his prior amusement. His arms crossed as well. Now this was more like him.

 

            "I agree with Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime cheered and raised her hand, waving it about.

 

            Ichigo, with his back currently turned on the scene Keigo was creating, was confused when in a moment or two an odd look passed over the faces of his friends. Ishida conveyed the impression of having seen a ghost, Chad was still as hard to read as ever but lacking his slight smile, and Orihime's arms swept behind her back as she rocked nervously on her feet. "Umm, is something wrong?" Ichigo asked them.

 

            Uryu's surprised expression dissipated. He sighed with his finger stretched out in the direction Keigo had walked and announced, "I'm afraid our opportunity has passed..."

 

            Ichigo's neck twisted to see a squirming Keigo in the clutches of a very pissed off, very gruff looking high school punk. It was indeed too late. Lord! This guy was almost as tall as Chad! Keigo seemed like he was begging the other teenager to put him down and began gesturing toward their small group. The angry looking student glared over at them from under his dark grey textured beanie. Ichigo snapped his eyes away from the scene right quick as something prickly charged up his spine. "Tell me...was I the only one who felt _that_..?" He meant the really bad, piercing vibe put off by that guy just looking at them. Uryu and Orihime shook their heads, nervously watching Keigo.

 

            Chad remained stone faced and stared blankly at the parking lot. "He's walking over here," the gentle giant's voice hummed.

 

            The rest of the group stiffened and Ichigo refused to turn around again. "I wonder what Keigo said to him..." Ichigo mumbled feeling goose-bumps forming on his arms.

 

            "I doubt they were discussing the weather," Uryu remarked, "If you know what I mean..."

 

            Ichigo, Orihime, Ishida, and Chad could only hope that this student with the hat wasn't one of the boys that their school had suspended last week for brawling in the gymnasium. The parking lot was the official afterschool hang-out spot for so many of those hot-heads.

 

            The menacing student stomped across the pitch black asphalt of the parking lot in his dark black boots, dragging Keigo with him. When the argument had started Keigo had been hoisted up off his feet by his school dress shirt, now this guy made it look like carrying the gutsy kid back to his gaggle of friends in the same manner was nothing. The stern faced student's black combat boots dropped heavy in the dirt behind Ichigo. Much to the group's surprise Keigo was deposited, dropped might have been a better description, on his feet and then pushed forward.

 

            With intimidating form looming behind him all of the hair on Ichigo’s neck was upright and he dared not turn around just yet.

 

            Keigo stumbled past Ichigo and at the first opportunity he grabbed Chad's arm and scrambled behind the boulder of a protective human form. Silently he claimed sanctuary.

 

            So this guy had nothing to say? Uryu took advantage of the silence and piped up, "If you don't mind, please turn that racket coming from your car to a suitable volume for your personal enjoyment. Not everyone wants to hear that rabble."

 

            "Rabble, huh?" The scary bright eyed student began looking over the group, perhaps sizing them up. "Damn, those are some pretty big words in a pretty clever array. I guess that makes ya prudes when it comes to music though. Music like this only sounds good when it’s loud."

 

            Uryu straitened his glasses for the umpteenth time and glared above Ichigo's shoulder at this inconsiderate student. Chad and Orihime weren't about to combat the statements made, and Ichigo had apparently lost all of his earlier fire because he was just standing there... Ishida took up the position of arguing for them, "Then when it comes to courtesy and thoughtfulness I suppose you deem yourself an expert?"

 

            A bought of laughter erupted from the punk and after he was finished laughing at the well-crafted retaliation he clapped a hand down on the closest person to him...unfortunately that meant Ichigo. "Nah, I'm just cultured." The teenager whom he’d put a hand on nervously jerked at the sudden touch.

 

            As if he was trying to pretend that he wasn’t a part of this situation, Ichigo also swallowed dryly with a nervous stare ahead of himself.

 

            "Leave Kurosaki-kun alone!" Inoue demanded after seeing Ichigo flinch.

 

            "I didn't know ya hung around with such wet-blankets...Ichigo."

 

            Uryu scowled and Keigo remained cowering behind Chad. "You had better get back in your car and drive off if you don't want us to go get campus security," Ishida warned, then paused to reflect on what this guy had actually jut said because it struck him as oddly familiar. "Hold on..." ...a first name basis? "Ichigo, do you know him, this student?"

 

            "Student?" the blue eyed man remarked questioningly.

 

            Ichigo turned his head partway to see who actually had him by the shoulder. Ichigo found himself face to face with a half-cocked grin and familiar radiant, sky-blue eyes. He went wide eyed. Vanishing for two weeks...then turning up here at _his_ high school... Ichigo wondered how he hadn’t recognized the man’s voice.

 

            The fellow at Ichigo's side switched his hand to Ichigo's other shoulder, draping his arm carelessly around the more than astonished teenager and giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek. "Can I tell 'em?" Grimmjow murmured beside Ichigo's ear in an affectionate manner.

 

            "I missed you…but please don't kiss me in front of so many people," Ichigo responded in an equally low tone of voice. He was just flat out embarrassed now. Ichigo had recently made time to explain his 'for sure' attraction to males to the rest of his friends so the fact that this male figure was hanging on him like this was probably less shocking given that understanding. Such clarification had really been necessary and actually made talking to all of his friends a lot easier. One less secret. "How about just telling them your name." Ichigo's teeth clenched for the last words, " _Nothing else_."

 

            "Well?" Ichigo and Grimmjow's eyes turned to an expectant Ishida who sounded insistent. He glasses wearing teen also seemed frustrated with them collectively.

 

            Man what an annoying dork Ichigo was hanging out with... Grimmjow ignored Ishida's badgering for the moment, defiantly kissing Ichigo on the side of his ear and whispering back, "What's wrong with a kiss?" After that sarcastic question Ichigo was fuming, but not with anger. Grimmjow sighed once before pulling the beanie covering his head off by its edge. From half of his head, the one that wasn't shaved down to a bristly length, tumbled light cerulean locks of hair which settled against one half of his face. His hair was a little wavy and unkempt from being up under that hat for so long, but now he looked every inch the handsome and exotic man that Ichigo would always have a hard-on for. Grimm had actually taken the hat off to try and stuff it onto Ichigo's head but the orange haired teenager did a good job of fending him off. Forget about telling them his name for now...it was more fun to tease the kid. After all, he'd missed him.

 

            As the Grimmjow and Ichigo grappled over a meager hat, Uryu stood with his arms uselessly dangling at his sides. "I don't believe this..." he muttered.

 

            Blue hair...blue eyes...about six foot tall...ruggedly handsome... First the realization that Ichigo was strictly _gay_ and now the man that they’d laughed at Ichigo for supposedly imagining was standing right _here_. He was _real_.

 

            Chad's expression was still unreadable like a stone and masked partially by the thick wavy hair covering his own face. He might have been as surprised as Uryu, but not dumbfounded. Chad knew what should come next, "I think we all owe Ichigo an apology." His tone wasn't as bland as before but it was still soothing. The towering giant of a high school student politely bowed his head and pressed his flattened hands palms together.

 

            Ichigo stopped struggling against the forceful hands and the hat and watched in awe as Ishida followed Chad's example and they both chanted 'please forgive us Kurosaki-san'. His friends had come to acknowledge the truth in Ichigo's old story about the exotic man he'd met and not only that…they were kind enough to apologize for being so rude about it. "It's alright...you don't have to go that far guys." He’d already kind of come to terms with things.

 

            At that moment Grimmjow successfully stuffed the dark-grey beanie onto Ichigo's head and draped his arm around the young man again.

 

            "I'm so happy Ichigo-kun! You kept your promise." Inoue exclaimed clasping her hands together and smiling.

 

            A confounded Grimmjow remarked, "Alright, am I missin' somethin' here?"

 

            Grimmjow wasn't the only one left in the dark; uninformed, Keigo was just as confused and it wasn't long before his mouth erupted to demand more of an explanation. "Ichigo! You know this psycho from somewhere?! What was with that _kiss_?! And why are _they_ apologizing? What's going on?!" Keigo hadn’t really been part of all of this mess prior.

 

            "'Psycho'?" Grimmjow reiterated with a sneer.

 

            Keigo jumped back behind Chad for protection. It was apparent that Chad's tolerance of being used as 'base' had reached its limit when he lifted the nervous wreck up by the back of his shirt and set Keigo down beside him. The short brown haired student accepted his new placement with knocking knees.

 

            "Kurosaki-kun told us about you a few months ago, Grimm-san, and he promised to let me meet you sometime," Orihime chirped, clearing up part of the man’s confusion.

 

            "Wait when did you learn his name, Inoue? He hasn't even introduced himself yet," Ishida remarked skeptically.

 

            "When Kurosaki-kun told it to me."

 

            "When was this?!" Ishida nagged.

 

            "Kid with glasses, ya sound like a broken record," Grimmjow remarked. He was beginning to get sick of this round-about arguing and commentary. It was funny though...he'd almost forgotten what it was like to be surrounded by teenagers like when he was in high school. Bittersweet memories.

 

            "S-So...th-this is...umm..." Keigo didn't know this guy's full name and he wasn't about to call someone intimidating and unfamiliar by a nickname. Luckily for the brunette the cerulean haired man filled in his sentence for him.

 

            "Name's Grimmjow. And I’m not a student here." It was almost as much fun teasing Ichigo's jumpy buddy as it was to tease Ichigo himself, _almost_.

 

            "Th-Thanks...s-so is Grimmjow-s-san... Is he your f-fr-friend...or s-something, I-Ichigo?" Keigo stammered out with great effort.

 

            Grimmjow practically purred at the opportunity to answer that question in Ichigo's stead but the orange haired teenager spoke up quickly, elbowing Grimmjow in the ribs when he heard the man inhale. "Yes he is."

 

            Grimmjow coughed once and smirked at the rough treatment. He then rested his chin on Ichigo's shoulder and rubbed his thigh up against Ichigo's butt discretely. "The term 'friend' is a little loose, don't ya think?" he murmured.

 

            Ichigo shuddered at nudge against his rear and the remark. Grimmjow really loved to tease and reactions like this were just feeding him encouragement to continue.

 

            "Then why'd he try to kill me if you’re such great pals?!" Keigo snapped flapping his arms at his sides.

 

            Now that was a question for _him_ to answer! Grimmjow's vivid blue eyes lifted to observe the obnoxious brunette. "Ya called me a 'punk jerk' and said you'd put a few _'dents'_ in my 'pretty-boy car' unless I ‘turned my music down’. Am I leavin' anythin’ essential or relevant out?" A recently repaired car which was _precious_ to a certain man here was not an ideal object to be a recipient of threats, but that wasn't an obvious fact, though it was - or should be - common sense not to mess with a man’s ride.

 

            The word choice Keigo had taken the liberty to use to get Grimmjow's attention spoke for itself. "Not any part that matters..." Keigo grumbled crossing his arms and staring off at a tree to the side of the group and next to the parking lot. Those were things he’d said earlier to Grimmjow in a huff when they were beside the sportscar.

 

            "Besides, I didn't know ya were Ichigo's pal until I got outta the car and ya pointed these goons out. I still don't think I should spare ya for threatenin' my car like that..."

 

            "It was a joke! Honest!" Keigo chuckled nervously while denying his earlier words, "I wouldn't have done _anything_ bad to it!"

 

            "Joke huh? Well I ain't laughing pal."

 

            Relieved, Ichigo sighed while watching Grimmjow have a grand time perturbing Keigo. His lover wasn't going to hurt his friend, Ichigo doubted Grimm was even seriously pissed. It was just nice to see his cerulean haired companion smiling again. A hiatus for _two weeks_... The last time they'd seen each other departure had been less tender than either of them would have liked. It was only supposed to have been a peaceful family dinner and his extremely protective father had turned that plan inside-out on itself. Ichigo still wanted to understand some things about Grimmjow better. The drugs and potential abuse specifically. Those really needed to be explained in full among others. To mark the state of his handsome dancer's return, Grimmjow seemed alright at a glance - the Lamborghini was back in good condition also. He wasn't going to forget that they should talk about a where Grimmjow had hidden himself away and a few more serious things when they were alone but for now he could just be relieved that Grimmjow had returned to him.

 

            "Hey, Ichi. Anyone home?" Grimmjow snapped his fingers in the young man’s face and chuckled as Ichigo was startled from his private thoughts.

 

            "Huh?" The orange haired teen blinked a few times.

 

            "Glasses asked ya a question." Grimmjow retorted, indicating Ishida.

 

            Sensing that he now had Ichigo's attention Uryu restated what he'd said while his friend was spacing out, "I asked if this, _him_ rather, adds onto what you confessed to us a week ago, regarding your preferences. You two seem intimate."

 

            While Grimmjow took his turn with the bewilderment-stick that seemed to be traveling from person to person a lot, Ichigo nodded. "Yes, but please keep this to yourselves. I don't want Renji to find out. He'll be bent that I didn't say something to him...separately." It was no secret among Ichigo's friends that Renji wasn't really part of their circle anymore, but he had been in the past.

 

            "What am I missin' out on now?" Grimmjow bluntly hinted that he'd like some clarification.

 

            "Kurosaki-san told us a week ago about a past relationship between himself and a fellow schoolmate of ours." Ishida looked to Ichigo, "I'm surprised that while explaining about Renji you didn't try to press the fact that you weren't feeding us fictitious tales about _him_."

 

            "Hey _pal_ , I have a name. Why don't ya try usin' it?" Grimmjow snapped, sensing that 'him' would become his unfortunate nickname unless corrected.

 

            "I would if you'd be polite enough to use mine as well."

 

            Grimmjow blew out a puff of frustrated air and looked expectantly to Ichigo to back him up.

 

            "Well," Ichigo began, "I haven't actually told Grimmjow any of your names yet...so..."

 

            So Grimmjow couldn't have used his name because he didn't know what it was! Uryu's face flushed at his mistake and he fidgeted with his glasses. "Hmmf!"

 

            Ichigo started pointing at each person and naming them as he went along, "This is Uryu Ishida," the awkward teen tried to hide his embarrassment by keeping his fingers on the center of his glasses. "Orihime Inoue," she waved and put forth a smile of someone who was simply happy to be alive. "Yasutora Sado, we just call him Chad," the gentle giant nodded politely, "and Keigo."

 

            "Hey! No fancy introduction for your best buddy? What the heck's up with that?" Keigo pestered.

 

            So the brunette was getting bold again was he? The temptation to continue terrorizing Keigo was too much. "I thought _I_ was your 'best buddy', Ichi." Grimmjow gently brushed the backs of one hand's fingers against Ichigo's cheek, having directed his words at the orange haired young man as he gave a daunting stare to Keigo. Accompanying the stare was a dreadful smirk, almost able to peel the skin right off anyone watching, which formed across Grimmjow’s sly lips.

 

            'Best buddy' indeed... That was some serious innuendo which only Ichigo and Grimmjow understood fully. It brought a hot blush to Ichigo’s cheeks - bashful.

 

            The now very nervous brunette, Keigo, waved his hands in front of his face to ward off Grimmjow's intentionally spooky stare, "Oh...ah, ha, ha...well I d-didn't know _that_...heh...I'm just Ichigo's f-friend. I s-swear."

 

            Ichigo intervened, "Grimmjow stop trying to scare him, Keigo has enough trouble on his own."

 

            "Hey! Ichigo, that's not very nice!" Keigo protested, shaking a fist.

 

            "Yeah, you forgot to introduce _me_ to your new friend," a low voice, crackling with spite snarled beside the group. Slowly each person directed their attention to the voice's owner. He was shuffling toward them looking rather cross about something. "Renji Abarai," he announced himself stopping beside Ichigo and eyeing Grimmjow's arm around the orange haired teen. The rest of the group fell silent, even the excitable Keigo didn't comment at this point.

 

            Grimmjow was keeping an eye on this newcomer. There was nothing about this ‘Renji Abari’ that inspired trust so far. "I'd say it's nice to meet ya, but that pissed off attitude makes it kinda hard, and I ain't into lyin'. Also, I'm not really buyin' that Ichi here and ya are pals," Grimmjow growled back smartly.

 

            "That's too bad, because believe it or not we are _very_ close friends." Renji snapped back.

 

            Keigo couldn't hold off his would-be smart mouth any longer. "Abarai-san! Hey... I thought you and Ichigo didn't really talk anymore."

 

            "Shut the fuck up Keigo." Everyone fell dead silent after that, even Grimmjow. Chad, trying to protect the few that shouldn't be involved in this spat, herded Orihime and Ishida away from a steaming Renji. They'd only moved a short distance away but some distance was better than being right next to a kettle of broiling water. It was Ichigo, Renji, and by default Grimmjow's personal affair to settle.

 

            Grimmjow had watched those dark hostile eyes of Renji's snap to Keigo. The kid might've been a wimp and all talk but a petrified Ichigo wasn't making a single move to help his friend so Grimm piped up, "Hey red, I think that pony-tail's too tight on your head. It's makin' ya pretty snappy."

 

            Renji continued to glare at Keigo until the brunette got the hint and scrambled off to join Chad and the others. Renji’s eyes returned to Grimmjow. "You know maybe you're right, but there's a little _something else_ that might be the cause of my snappy mood."

 

            Grimmjow left his leisurely stance, removing his hands from Ichigo, and stepped forward toward Renji. As the exotic man stared down the redhead, who was – granted - almost as tall as himself, Grimm cocked his head to the side and slowly crossed one arm over the other. The muscles under the exposed skin of his left and right arms twitched with anticipation. "And just what's that?"

 

            "Thinking about Ichigo kissing that disgusting mouth of yours."

 

            Grimmjow's grin turned into more of a nasty smirk, "That it? I can tell somethin' else is buggin' ya. So why don't ya let it all out?"

 

            Renji scoffed at the taunt. His spiteful eyes moved over to Ichigo, "So this is what you gave me up for? He's a brute, all dressed up so he doesn't look like the trash he actually is. To older men like him you're nothing but a little whor-" Renji didn't have time to blink before he was on the ground spitting blood into the dirt.

 

            Grimmjow stood tall and proud of his work, shaking the numbness from his hand. It had been a while since he'd punched someone _that_ hard. "Talk like that'll get ya seriously hurt, ya little _shit_. I don't wanna hear that crap comin' outta your mouth, unless ya want me to put ya in a fuckin' body bag."

 

            "Grimmjow you shouldn't have done that!" Ichigo scolded.

 

            Was Ichigo seriously trying to reprimand _his_ actions?! Decking this twit was exactly what this disrespectful high schooler deserved. Grimmjow's attention was back to Ichigo, "Kid, anyone that calls ya a 'whore' to my face, or to yours for that matter, can kiss the fucking floor so far as I'm concerned."

 

            Renji could barely pick himself up, that was some punch, but after hearing Grimmjow's last comment a sudden rage charged through his veins. The redhead left his bookbag on the ground by the small amount of blood he’d coughed up and rushed Grimmjow, grabbing the man around the waist and forcing him to stumble backwards. "You fucking manwhore!" Grimmjow slipped on the loose ground and completely lost his footing, sending the two boys tumbling through the dirt. As the violent scuffle began it was attracting some of the lingering student-body. Girls covered their eyes and gasped and a few joined the boys in shouting and cheering on the action.

 

            To someone specific though, this wasn't entertaining, it was terrifying! Ichigo watched in horror as the two strong figures beat the living hell out of each other. In vain he screamed from the sidelines for them to stop, but his loud voice only mixed in with the noise other gathering students were making. Not quite strong enough to do much, Ichigo wouldn't intervene for fear he'd catch an off punch from one of them and wind up with broken bones. "Chad!" Ichigo begged his friend, "Help please! They'll kill each other!"

 

            Hesitantly the gentle giant walked from the group of Uryu, Orihime, and Keigo closer to the struggling, thrashing, vicious forces colliding amidst the flying dirt. He winced at the sheer thought of restraining of either one of them. Holding one meant fending off the other. Even for a boy his size - and Chad was head and shoulders taller than either - it was daunting. Men _this_ angry weren't forces to be reckoned with.

 

            Grimmjow landed a solid blow across Renji's face and sent thick blood and spit spurting from his mouth and nose. Renji came back, taking advantage of Grimmjow's unguarded stomach and punched the man in the gut. His fist met with the iron wall of Grimmjow's abs but the man still hacked at the painful hit. Furious grabbing hands continuously flew back and forth, completely ignoring Chad circling and waiting for an opening to grab one of them. The music still booming from Grimmjow's car just provided more of a suitable atmosphere for the bloody brawl, and it was only _beginning_ to get ugly. Within a rare moment and a break in the flying dust and dirt, Ichigo was able to fully witness the horror that had been washed over his otherwise pleasant Friday afternoon. Grimmjow had broken Renji's nose which was gushing crimson all down his school uniform shirt and pants in a striking amount. Renji didn’t seem to care, he’d left a few satisfying marks on the exotic man whose face reflected the pain. Both men were certainly bleeding from various scrapes and cuts given them by the other or the rough ground.

 

            The unseen damage which only Grimmjow and his adversary could feel was substantial. Grimmjow could sense the sting from several cracked or broken ribs and his right elbow was purple and screaming at him.

 

            Renji could also tell that a few of his ribs weren't quite right, several more than Grimmjow would have felt with more muscle to protect him, and both of his wrists as well as one knee and a shoulder were very, very sore. Abrasions were everywhere on the exposed skin over their muscular bodies and there were plenty of minor lacerations too.

 

            Neither male was armed nor had on rings, or gloves. It was just a bare-knuckle power struggle...that was soon to end when Chad came up behind Grimmjow and hooked him under the arms then began to tug the furious man away. Grimmjow struggled, raging, and thrashed against the arms that sought to restrain him. "Hands off pal! This ain't your fight!"

 

            Renji would have come over to wail on him more except a couple of guys from the crowd of students realized their opportunity to stop this and rushed in to nab Renji and pull him back. The guys holding Renji back were yelling their reminders that if these two didn't stop brawling the teachers might come outside and call the police. "You fucking manwhore! Keep your hands off Ichigo! He doesn't need your scum all over him!"

 

            "I'll shove my scum right up yer ass, ya tattooed cunt!" Chad was in for one hell of a ride trying to keep a hold of this mass of angry testosterone, Grimmjow.

 

            "I'll shove that and your bullshit right back in your stinking face!" Renji jerked and freed himself for a moment, only to be grabbed again by the same guys in a second's time. "I'll just _kill_ you so I won't have to waste time keeping an eye on your perverted ass!"

 

            "Keep talkin', I'll be over there ta cut yer fuckin' dick off an' feed it ta ya! Rude bitch!"

 

            "You trashy cum-dump, mother-fucking _MANWHORE!_ Don't ever touch Ichigo again! I'll kill you! I freaking kill you! Do you hear me?!" Renji snarled as loud as he could as the two boys worked to pin him down. "RRAAAAAHH!"

 

            "AAAAARRRRGGGHHH! Let go'a me!" Grimmjow spat and began to repeat his furious order to Chad, "Lemmie go!"

 

            In the distance Renji had struggled to his feet again but was held back by hands holding onto both of his arms. "You're dead! Dead! Dead! DEAD!" he bellowed.

 

            Chad had gotten Grimmjow out of the dirt yard and into the parking lot by now, but not without suffering a few nasty jabs from the thrashing man's elbows as Grimm wriggled, and he was _still_ hell bent on bellowing at the redhead after Renji spouted death threats, "Come at me then, ya fuckin' cunt!" After those coarse words there were no more calls back and forth. Grimmjow's voice felt hoarse and he bet Renji's did too. It made him all the more proud to think that it might. While Chad drug him along Grimmjow watched Renji collapse in the dirt with the two boys swarming around him and trying to block his view so that the feisty young man wouldn’t be able to see him anymore. When the relatively gentle giant was beside the Lamborghini he let go of Grimmjow's arms, but only after the man's breathing calmed a bit then Chad still took a few steps back. Grimmjow dropped his sore butt down on the pavement of the parking lot and his back rested against the front wheel on the passenger's side of his car. He tried to steady his breathing all the more, letting his throbbing head lean back against the chilly metal. By the time he'd stopped seeing red Grimmjow realized that Ichigo had tagged along after him instead of tending to that bitch, Renji. So it was true...they weren't really close friends, but once upon a time they probably had been. Grimmjow huffed a breath and gave a bloody smile as best he could with a cut lip.

 

            Bloody teeth...nice touch... The orange haired teenager ducked through the Lamborghini's passenger door’s open window to turn down the mix of violent metal and rock music. When he pulled his body back out Ichigo stared down at Grimmjow who had both hands down holding his ribcage, one knee bent, and the other leg laying straight. It was hard to tell if the man was comfortable or not. Grimm's blue eyes were hidden by closed eyelids. "I hope none of my teachers saw that. You know, you could have ruined mine and Renji's reputations here."

 

            "You won't be here long enough for it to matter," Grimmjow mumbled.

 

            "Only _seven_ more months!" That was long enough to be miserable.

 

            There was a lengthy pause as the amount of time was taken into consideration. "No one bad-mouths ya to my face, end of story," Grimmjow rasped, opening his eyes and wincing as he went to inhale deeply. The small group of Ichigo's friends that had broken off before now came over to see the thoroughly dirtied, bloodied mess sitting beside his sleek car. As the gaggle walked closer Grimmjow could see around them out into the dusty front yard of the school. Renji was free of restraining hands and alone, limping across the upset dirt to retrieve his schoolbag. The redhead picked it up and began hobbling by his lonesome toward the front gate of the school; the rest of the students had already moved away and cleared out of the yard. With the hype from adrenaline defunct Grimmjow wasn't sure if he should feel anger or pity for that lonely soul...

 

            Keigo was the first to speak after the group reached them, "Thanks, guy. You kinda told Renji off for messing with me and Ichigo...heh, heh...a little more Ichigo than me though..."

 

            "No problem..." Grimmjow hissed cupping the ribs he could feel them burning.

 

            "Should we take you to the hospital Grimmjow-san?" Orihime cooed, concerned about his wellbeing.

 

            Ichigo answered before Grimmjow could manage a syllable, "I don't think we need to."

 

            "Are ya kiddin' me? I fuckin' hate to say it but a band-aid or two just ain't gonna cut it for this," Grimmjow refuted.

 

            "We have a clinic at my house and I'll take you there instead." Ichigo’s idea wasn’t so bad actually.

 

            Yet still…Grimmjow was a skeptic. "And have your old man flip out on me again, no fuckin' thanks."

 

            "He's at work at this time of the day. I guarantee he won't be home early today. My sisters won't say anything to him either." Ichigo knelt down by Grimmjow and readjusted the beanie that Grimm had stuffed onto his head earlier. His hair was a bit of a mess and he hadn’t really planned on wearing a hat today, nor did he usually wear hats, but Ichigo didn't mind wearing something that smelled like Grimmjow at least. The man’s pleasant scent hung with him.

 

            Grimmjow gave a half-smile with his lips closed this time. Half of the expression was because Ichigo looked damn good in that hat with its grey colors and his bright orange hair. The other half, the non-smiling part, was because going to the home-clinic seemed like a half-assed plan, made on a whim, and he really didn’t want to run into Ichigo’s old man again. Damn, why wasn't this danger arousing him like it normally would? Maybe it was because he was staring into Ichigo's kind eyes, which promised him a safe place to recover? Grimmjow's eyes traveled over the orange haired young man’s shoulder at the pack of Ichigo’s friends. Orihime was softly smiling, Uryu was trying not to smile but couldn't help it, Keigo was grinning shamelessly, and even the usually stone-faced Chad had a slightly pleased expression. Suddenly Grimmjow realized what he'd done in defending Ichigo's name. He’d put faith of his good intentions into the teenager’s close friends. They probably trusted him with Ichigo now. Well he’d be damned… "Alright, fine. We can go to your house but you're drivin'." Grimmjow responded, and as the group lit up with happy chatter again, Grimm stared between Orihime's hip and Keigo's messenger-bag at a lonely crimson haired student leaning against a pole just beyond the school yard's gate. What he'd done had honored one person, and probably crushed another.


	38. Together Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: sexsexseeeex

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

_“_ _Together Again”_

 

 

            "Bye Ishida, tell your dad I'm still going to that funeral in a few days ok?" Ichigo could hear Grimmjow shifting in the backseat, it must have been a strange experience for the exotic man, usually the driver, to be stuck back there instead of in the driver's seat.

 

            "I'll tell him. Did you get your suit already?" Ishida fidgeted with the strap on his schoolbag, it was twisted, as he stood outside of the sportscar next to the driver's window and looked in at Ichigo. It was so strange to see Ichigo's face framed in the window of such a car...so strange. Ishida's mind wouldn't be able to let go of the image for a while.

 

            The rest of their friends had all gone home their separate ways so this was just a matter of dropping Ishida off at his home.

 

            "Yeah, like a month and a half ago. My dad made me hang it up in my closet to keep it nice. You did a really good job making that thing, I just hope it doesn't make me sweat too bad while it looks good. Thank you." Ichigo heard Grimmjow snickering and glanced in the rear-view mirror. He would've told the man to shut up but it wouldn't have helped.

 

            Ishida smiled and settled his hands on top of his schoolbag graciously. "You're more than welcome. Inform me if you need it altered though. I traced your measurements precisely but sometimes clothing needs a little adjustment when you don't measure it on the body. As for sweating, that just can't be helped, it’s a suit. Just hope that you wear it on a cool day. It's really the _least_ I can do to apologize for doubting that you were telling us all the truth. I'll have to think of something to do for you in addition."

 

            "Don't worry about it," Ichigo assured. He was pretty sure this was the second time that he’d insisted that no excessive apologies need be given. "We've been cool for a while so I'm not upset anymore."

 

            "I'm glad for that, but I'm still truly sorry." The friends exchanged mutual smiles. "Well, I have an entire afternoon ahead to organize. The ride home is appreciated, it gives me more time to do my scheduling and bookwork." Ishida began stepping back a few paces from the car.

 

            "Don't thank me, this is Grimmjow's car, he's just letting me drive it because he's sore." Fast as an injured man dared move, Grimmjow surprised Ichigo by leaning between the front seats to comment too.

 

            "Have a good one, glasses," Grimmjow chimed, hissing about his sore torso a second later. Damn that ached. _'Fuckin' ribs...and those don't heal so fast.'_ It hurt to smile just a little with that cut on his lip; at least it had stopped bleeding by now. This friend of Ichigo’s wasn’t so bad at all. None of them were so bad really. Ichigo had some nice friends and Grimmjow was glad that he did.

 

            Ichigo watched Ishida smile at the man next to him in the car and nod before he turned away. The orange haired young man watched his friend walk up his family's residence's front steps to the front door of his house. After his friend disappeared into the building Ichigo sighed with relief and shifted the car out of park then pulled away from the curb. Grimmjow sat back as the sportscar started to move again. While driving, Ichigo kept checking the rear-view mirror for Grimmjow, who remained in the backseat and was leaning against it with an arm across his ribs - holding onto them. It seemed like Grimm was doing just fine back there where he could relax and watch things outside of the car go by. The exotic man didn’t seem very mindful that there was another person in the car. After some minutes Ichigo finally came up with something to say to get his companion’s attention, "You started that fight with Renji all because he said 'whore' to me, right?"

 

            "He _called_ ya a 'whore' and that was fuckin' disrespectful," Grimmjow replied curtly, still looking out of a window as they drove by various buildings and other cars. "That's why I hit him first."

 

            "I don't think he really meant it. You both said some stuff I bet you didn't mean," Ichigo professed.

 

            "Actually, kid, I meant every goddamn word. I don't exactly know about him but I don't think he was bullshitting either." In the rearview mirror he saw Ichigo's eyes vaguely lose their brightness. "Look. I'm sorry, but that guy was a straight-up _asshole_. 'Close friends'. He was acting like he's fucked ya."

 

            Ichigo stammered, a little distracted as he was trying to make a decently sharp turn and somewhat reluctant to give an answer, "W-Well he has actually..."

 

            Grimmjow blinked but he didn't seem all that surprised. "What happened to that?"

 

            Ichigo's eyes afforded a glance at his passenger's brilliant blues over his shoulder now that he was driving straight down the road. He noted that Grimmjow's _total_ attention was on him, this was certainly a subject of interest. "I just- We couldn't compromise or get along. He's also very dominate and..." Ichigo's voice trailed. Grimmjow's soft chuckling filled in the space of other words. Ichigo chuckled back nervously and straightened the dark grey beanie on his head.

 

            "Ya like to dominate too," the man confirmed, sliding against the backseat a bit as the vehicle traveled over an uneven section of road. Grimmjow was still mostly comfortable back there with the whole backseat to himself even though he was in some moderate pain.

 

            Ichigo’s eyes were now back on the road again. "Yes, and well…I wanted to be the one to be dominate sometimes but I guess not everyone's so versatile in what they like…like you are. You’re pretty wonderful, and I love having some dominance over you. And I think you love it when I am too."

 

            Grimmjow burst into a sudden fit of laughter, only slowing the laugh when his sides began to burn and seize and the cut on his lip stung more. He coughed a bit and hit the seat with the palm of his hand several times in a row.

 

            A controlled smile was on Ichigo's now flushed face and he looked in the rearview mirror at the man again. "Is it really _that_ funny?"

 

            Helplessly Grimmjow laughed a little harder, trying not to cough again. "Apparently so..!" he managed with a wheeze. Damn this hurt but it felt so good to have a laugh. When Grimmjow had had his laugh he exhaled a long satisfied sigh. “It’s just…I’ve never enjoyed being dominated by anyone but ya.”

 

            Ichigo’s eyes blinked and watched the man in the backseat again in his mirror.

 

            “You’re pretty wonderful yourself.”

 

~

 

_[The Kurosaki residence.]_

            Ichigo had parked the Lamborghini in front of his house and gotten out quickly to run to the passenger’s side to help Grimm as the man aimed to get out over there. Ichigo had lifted the passenger's side butterfly door and reached in to help grasp Grimmjow's body as the exotic man struggled to duck under the car's frame and door to get out. It was probably a struggle because leaning put pressure on the ribs in Grimm’s body that were fractured or broken, damaged in some way.

 

            "OW!" Ichigo's hand had squeezed a sensitive part of Grimmjow's torso over his cracked ribs by accident. Those were particularly sensitive. Grimmjow had yelled of his pain involuntarily right beside the teenager’s ear. His handsome face showed a pained grimace. The cut on his lip was opening again...

 

            "I'm sorry!" Ichigo hastily apologized, attempting to find another way to support his pained companion. He’d quickly let go of Grimm's ribs. Grimmjow's shoulders worked, Ichigo placed an arm around them.

 

            Carefully Grimmjow lifted his second foot out of the sportscar, securely and comfortably supported by Ichigo. "Didn't mean to shout right in your ear..."

 

            Ichigo chuckled a little, it hadn't upset him. "It's alright."

 

            Grimmjow exhaled, relieved of some pain and stood on his own for a moment as Ichigo retrieved his bookbag from inside the car. He waited for Ichigo to set the passenger's seat back in place and to close both butterfly doors to the Lambo before coming back to support him. It was cute in a way to watch Ichigo get used to sharing his stuff. Grimmjow smirked and kissed the young man full on the lips when Ichigo was back at his side. It was a purely sweet press between the pair and it made his cut lip sting a bit but Ichigo seemed to like the kiss as much as he.

 

            Happily Ichigo returned the kiss and it lasted for several tender seconds before their lips parted again. With a smile he rubbed Grimmjow’s shoulder with the hand off the arm around the man and then they walked toward the house. They were both smiling fondly between each other. Ichigo wasn't so nervous about being seen while the moment swept him up and held him on its cloud. At the door Ichigo found out that… "I kind of don't have my house key..." his hand couldn’t find it in either of his pockets as there were only Grimmjow’s Lamborghini’s keys in there, which he handed back to the handsome man.

 

            Grimmjow pocketed his own keys. "Well shit, knock if any body's home, hmm?"

 

            Ichigo shook his head, mind now remembering his prized secrecy and worry. Even though his father and sisters now knew about Grimmjow he didn't want it to become any more than that just yet. As if it wouldn't, but Ichigo was worried about handling their opinions of Grimmjow. Already, his youngest sister vaguely understood what was going on and his dad and Karin totally understood but they were the least forgiving. Ichigo wished that they were all as young and naive as Yuzu, but they really weren’t. "There's a door on the side of the house. I hop this fence when I sneak out at night to I can get over it from this side too." Ichigo gestured toward the side of the house where there was a tall brick barrier blocking of view of the side yard.

 

            Grimmjow looked to the side with the wall and scanned it with his blue eyes. "That's not a fence. That's a... _wall_."

 

            A wall which Ichigo scrambled up just fine. Its intentionally uneven design meant the bricks were good enough footholds for someone coordinated to use to climb. "Umph!" From up on the top of the brick barrier Ichigo jumped down onto the other side and landed in the yard.

 

            Grimmjow heard his lover’s feet landing on the grass and Ichigo grunted once. Then came the sound of the young man walking across the grass and then over something more solid, probably a concrete deck, and finally the smooth 'rrrr' of a sliding door opening and then closing. Grimmjow waited one minute, two, three...four...how long did it take to break into your own house and unlock the front door? Leaning partially on the wall of the house Grimmjow glanced around to see if there were any of Ichigo's neighbors outside because he was feeling a bit awkward about just standing here in plain sight outside of a house that wasn’t his and wondering if anyone had seen the kid climb over the brick wall. Then again Ichigo's hair made him a pretty distinct kid, they should know he was the one who lived here. That dark grey beanie that was still on Ichigo’s head though… Grimmjow mostly shook the quibbling thoughts from his head. Only one gentleman across the street was visible. The old guy was reaching up into a tree of his front yard which was definitely way too tall for him. It looked like he was just picking autumn leaves or something. That tree was full of them, bright and yellow. "The fuck?" Grimmjow muttered under his breath, staring, not one to immediately appreciate such hobbies. He would've kept staring but the front door's latch made a sound. He pivoted to find the door open and a short dark haired girl staring up at him. Well...that was definitely not whom he'd expected. Ichigo was actually just behind her, much to Grimmjow’s relief.

 

            "I asked you not to get the door, Karin!"

 

            "So? It's just the mermaid that Dad hates."

 

            Grimmjow felt stunted, hearing the word 'hate' from one of Ichigo's kid sisters couldn't be a good sign. "'Mermaid'?" He wasn't going to even try to come in the house until Karin moved aside and let him in. Behind Karin, Ichigo was shaking his head at Grimmjow to make him stop talking, but Grimm was going to ignore him.

 

            "Mer _man_ , whatever. It's because your haircut looks so weird and it's blue. My dad said that you were just trouble and Ichigo would get hurt again if he stuck around you."

 

            "Well your dad doesn't know me very well, does he?" Grimmjow caught Ichigo mouthing 'shut up' and continued to ignore the warning.

 

            "Neither do I," Karin remarked stepping to the side so that their guest could come in. "My brother's an idiot though, he'd get hurt with or without you."

 

            Grimmjow chuckled and stepped inside their home. He was skeptical about what she said and how she had said it but at least she’d let him into the house without too much of a fuss.

 

            Karin nonchalantly closed the door and marched around Grimmjow and Ichigo to get back to the living room. Not another word given. She still didn't like Grimmjow but she wasn't interested in bothering him more right now.

 

            Grimmjow watched the young girl vanish around a corner then checked his companion's expression. Ichigo was blushing a 'mad' red with his arms crossed. "Ya know what the sad thing is?" Grimm piped as he was carefully leaning sideways with a hand against the wall to take off his combat boots.

 

            "Do not speak," the teenager warned in a grumble.

 

            Grimmjow stepped up from the landing in his dark socks. "She doesn't sound hateful and you're still butt-hurt about it."

 

            Ichigo chewed on his bottom lip in annoyance before turning around to get into the clinic, the door to it was just to the right of the foyer. "You know I think I'll clean yours cuts with alcohol and boiling water."

 

            Grimmjow let out a sound of dismay. "I would really _not_ like that..." He heard Ichigo give a vague 'uh huh' as young man got into his father's clinic, venturing in. "Just so ya know, my libido says it doesn't like torture so its packing its bags. Leaving forever." Grimmjow vaguely followed, leaning in the doorway as Ichigo went to a desk further in the room, set down his schoolbag, and began eyeing the medical supplies for what was needed.

 

            It was unlucky that his father kept the clinic disorganized sometimes but lucky at least that it was well-stocked. "Grimmjow that sounds like you're threatening to never have sex with me again over a little alcohol. That's a pretty terrible threat." Since he was too short to reach some of the supplies Ichigo was half kneeling on the main desk to reach a shelf overhead with extra tubes of antiseptic. It was difficult to prevent supplies from fall off of these shelves as there were lots of supplies up there. His dad could be so disorganized and lazy with things sometimes. Where the hell were their ice and hot packs? Not here apparently. Ichigo was looking hard for them. While Ichigo selected other supplies that he needed to clean Grimmjow up he continued talking, running over the beginning of something that Grimmjow was about to say. "And it’s a terrible threat because your sanity would last half as long as mine without anything sexual." Once again he'd totally forgotten his worries of secrecy and talked casually to the man.

 

            Grimmjow's thoughts were made to recall his time at the hospital. The only reason he'd been without was because he was out of it and unresponsive and nearly the first thing he'd done after getting back to Ichigo was encourage the young man to have sex. A lot of sex. Maybe too much... Naaah! He shouldn't second guess multiple orgasms. Today though Grimmjow had noticed a sharper confidence in Ichigo, it was developing in the kid since they'd met and finally showing up to a fuller extent. Ichigo was bolder, more coordinated, and usually eager to play. In a weird way Grimmjow was proud of these developing strengths in the young man. “Well you’re not wrong.”

 

            “Of course I’m not.”

 

            “Ya getting’ a little cocky there.”

 

            “And you were just looking for an excuse to squeeze the word ‘cock’ into our conversation.”

 

            “I can squeeze a cock into a lot of places.”

 

            Ichigo gave Grimmjow a long look over one of his shoulders.

 

            Grimmjow just shrugged and shook his head, concealing most of a grin. He changed the subject, "May I soak in the bath for a while?"

 

            How formal his guest sounded asking for permission like that after being so crude. It almost made no sense how Grimmjow could go from crass to impressively mannerly in seconds. The most impressive part…was that Grimmjow was extremely believable in the shift. Ichigo shrugged his shoulders, "You may. The one upstairs is a shower and a bathtub. The one here in the clinic has jets however no shower. Whichever you prefer."

 

            Grimmjow's brows crunched together as he imagined how water blasting against his aches and scrapes would feel and decided that the water jets would probably hurt him. "I think if I have cracked rib or so those jets would be pretty painful."

 

            On occasion Ichigo loved getting a massage from the that tub with the jets and hadn't really considered the fact that they weren’t an appealing feature under the circumstances – Ichigo had never had damaged ribs before. "Oh. Well you can turn them off and the one in here is also bigger, if that matters." The young man indicated its location, pointing toward a corner where folding walls, tall dividers, were boxing it into a quaint area of the clinic.

 

            Nearly the second after Ichigo had shut his mouth and pointed the tub out Grimmjow got a gleam in his eyes. "Size _always_ matters." Shutting the clinic door Grimmjow left the doorway and ventured over to look between the dividers, moving them aside. Holy heck, this tub really was huge, more like a hot tub if it was up to his opinion.

 

            Ichigo averted his face so that his laughter could be swallowed and remain unheard. Grimmjow's smart mouth was quite persistent. Ichigo’s poor face was beginning to ache of smiling after only being around Grimmjow for just a few hours today. Eventually he did have to face Grimmjow again though when Grimm needed the water turned on and the jets turned off, but by then he had composed himself. "It gets water through an alternative tank and furnace, so we can still have hot showers if a patient is here using this one. It’s a really nice tub."

 

            "S'cuse me for askin' but why does your old man have a clinic at home when he works at Central?"

 

            Ichigo inhaled and let the breath go heavily and swiftly. "My mother use to work with him. She passed."

 

            "Oh...I’m sorry."

 

            Water loudly began pouring into the smooth sided tub as Ichigo turned the faucets to on. "It's alright. At least you care about my family even though my dad ran you off..." When Ichigo straightened up from tweaking the controls on the side of the tub and checking the water Grimmjow threw his shirt down with an agonized groan. They broke away from that subject evenly. "Does it feel like more than one rib?"

 

            "Everything's feelin' all at once right now so I'll get back to ya on that, kid." Grimmjow turned his back to Ichigo while he shimmied out of his jeans with a supportive lean on the side of the tub. Unexpectantly, Ichigo's nails ghosted with only a feather’s weight over his back several times as he was getting out of his jeans. Grimmjow shuddered and looked over his should after dropping the jeans and his jockstrap under them. "That felt good…but what was that for?"

 

            "Your scars look better, more healed."

 

            Grimmjow moved his back away from Ichigo's hand and completely stepped out of his pants and underwear. "Are they now?" It would seem that his sensitivity about those marks or what they represented wasn't gone yet. Poor tormented soul. As the tub was as tall as his hip Grimm needed to carefully swing one leg over and then the other to get in. Differences between this tub and a hot tub were few. especially the roominess of it. His leg's short hairs prickled come the feel of the calf-high water. It was chilly for now but it would heat up soon.

 

            A bit hurt by the way Grimmjow didn't seem to want his comfort Ichigo smiled anyway and left the antiseptic as well as other supplies that he would doctor Grimmjow's scrapes and cuts with on the ledge of the tub. He pulled the divider so that the man had privacy. "I've been hungry, I'll bring you something too," he assured going to the clinic door and stepping out without much else to say. Ichigo thought about something weird while he was gone as an alternative to moping. Grimmjow shaved his legs or waxed them or whatever _all_ the time. Right now though…Grimmjow’s legs weren’t shaven and the hair that grew on them was obvious. Other than his companion's pubes which he'd seen plenty of...the hair across Grimm’s legs were blue too. How obsessed was Grimmjow about dying his hair all the same color? Ichigo couldn't remember if Grimmjow shaved his armpits but he was going to try and remember to check there at some point. A mystery unfolding perhaps...

 

~

 

            "Grimmjow... Grimm..!"

 

            A warm hand against the exotic man’s shoulder had roused him from a light slumber. This tub was long enough for him to lay nearly flat and comfortably rest his head without risk of slipping down into the water. He'd really only planned to close his eyes for a minute... It had probably been several or a half an hour. The shallow water lapped at Grimm’s bare body, tan skin wetted over the slopes of his muscles, as he turned to see Ichigo offer him a nacho chip smothered in melted cheeses. For just a second the offering caught Grimmjow off guard. Ichigo had kind of pushed the food in his face so Grimmjow wasn't at first sure what he was looking. The man was practically cross-eyed. The second he realized what it was though Grimmjow crunched the chip in a single bite, accepting it with gratitude and kissing Ichigo’s hand. The salt didn't make his lip sting so bad right now, the cut on it was closed up again for the most part. "Thanks. So's that what ya were away makin’?"

 

            "Uh huh." Ichigo set the plate with the rest of the chips on the broadest ledge of the tub's rim. "Karin took the rest of cheese because she's weird about liking cheese a lot so I could only make this much for now. You looked so peacefully asleep, almost like a dead guy."

 

            Grimmjow lifted one brow and reached for another chip. "Comforting..." He chomped a second one; these huge, smothered chips were actually pretty damn good!

 

            Ichigo shrugged as he knelt down behind Grimmjow and hung his arms over the barely filled tub. It seemed like Grimmjow had stopped the water when it was only just barely up to his torso. "I thought you wanted to soak in a bath."

 

            "Well I am soaking, I thought I might fall asleep as I was layin’ in here," Grimmjow answered back with a chuckle as he curled a string of cheese from a third chip back on top of it so he could eat it all in one bite.

 

            "So you turned the water off." Ichigo picked a chip up off of the plate, watching strings of cheese dangle off its end.

 

            "So?"

 

            "Did you turn it off because the water was hurting you?" Ichigo finished playing with that chip and finally ate the thing in two bites. De-fucking-licious! These nachos were bomb good.

 

            That wasn't exactly why he'd turned the water off before relaxing, but he had realized he wanted it to just barely lap at his sides. "Not at the level it is now, no." Otherwise he just didn't want to be sweltering or push his luck with being comfortable. Grimmjow showed Ichigo one of his knees that was red and sore, not having noticed it until he'd stripped and Ichigo hadn’t seen it either. "I think I hit the ground pretty hard with this...my elbow isn't so pretty either." The man turned his right elbow so that the hatted teen could see how purple it was.

 

            Under the beanie Ichigo swallowed and grimaced.

 

            Grimmjow had washed off his minor scrapes and cuts on his arms and such so aesthetically they didn't stand out much besides being red from slight aggitation. "My ribs though, I think some of them are cracked in front." He moved a finger barely along the inner ribs that were under muscles of his abdomen. "They really hurt all by themselves, just from breathin' even."

 

            Ichigo finished licking the saltiness of the chips from his lips and looked at Grimmjow's chest, eyes glancing past the gunshot scar on his shoulder and the one under the man's right pec. He wouldn't upset his guest by acknowledging those right now. There was redness from some irritation going on along Grimmjow's abdomen, but why no bruises? It could be that it was deep enough that a bruise had not shown up yet, because surely the force that could crack a rib would hurt muscle and also skin. Ichigo watched Grimm’s chest, the abdominals rising and falling with the careful breaths that Grimmjow was taking. What a durable guy. This was probably extremely painful and all Grimmjow was doing was explaining without complaining. What a sensual, sexual marvel he also was... The wetted muscles popped and boasted their sculpted presence all the way down Grimmjow’s body. Ichigo’s eyes were drawn to the man’s obliques coming in from the sides and a deep 'v' following inward of the muscles to the base of his companion's manhood. Blue curls… Oh hell… Ichigo took his eyes off the magnificence with some effort.

 

            "What?" It wasn't like Grimmjow was blind to the fact that the face hovering beside him was studying his anatomy intimately.

 

            "'What' about what?"

 

            "Ya looked away. Too much for ya to handle?"

 

            Ichigo pieced together his words carefully as he was saying them, "Well you're... _you know_... Arousing. But you're hurt. So I'm not going to be the asshole who begs you to d _o it_ when you don't feel good."

 

            Do ‘it’? Wait, wait… Ichigo wanted to have sex _right now?_ Forget the cracked ribs, bruises, and cuts on him. "I feel fine."

 

            "A second ago you were showing me all of the many places you’ve been hurt. It shows in your behavior too."

 

            "Really I feel better," Grimm gave Ichigo a mischievous smile. Maybe he really was feeling better…with the prospect that he might get laid.

 

            Ichigo gave his companion a more than skeptical look, "With Karin in the house?"

 

            Why was Ichigo fishing for excuses against this when he had just admitted that he wanted to do it? "Big boys lock the door," he countered smartly. “So why don’t ya go and lock it and we’ll have some fun.”

 

            “Grimmjow, why are you always horny..?”

 

            The exotic man grinned and carefully shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno, but it’s the way things are.”

 

            Nachos and Karin aside Ichigo was quickly persuaded and followed the embarrassingly obvious advice to lock the door to prevent an issue with Karin before he came back over to the bathtub. Midway back he snapped his fingers and walked back to the clinic's desk suddenly, leaving Grimmjow to peer over the edge of the tub and wonder what the heck Ichigo was doing. The young man knelt on the desk again and got a suitable lubricant off the shelves on the wall. It wasn't his bottle of ‘fun’ stuff, which was up in his room, but it was suitable for medical instruments and internal use so it was probably alright for sex. He eagerly brought the bottle over to the tub and stripped down completely naked. Bare of skin, Ichigo got into the shallowly filled tub beside Grimmjow and laid down next to his dancer's warm body, hand on Grimmjow's chest, palm covering up the gunshot scar under the man's pec. Even if they weren’t leading up to something sexual it was still wonderful to relax like this.

 

            Still on his back, Grimmjow had an arm around Ichigo and flipped the bottle of lube that the young man had brought over so that he could read the print on its label, a practical habit he had. Grimm tapped a fingertip against a part of the label. "Water based." Good thing he'd read it. A heel of his nudged the plug in the bottom of the tub and the lukewarm water began to drain out.

 

            Ichigo subtly checked something while he was just laying there at Grimmjow’s side…stemming from a curiosity of earlier. Grimm's underarm hairs were blue too! Well…that answered that about their color. The question remained though: why? At least part of Ichigo’s curiosity was now sated, the younger of them nuzzled his face against the man’s left pec and tried to discard his mystery solving thoughts for now, afraid they would spoil the sexy mood between them.

 

            It didn't take long for the water to drain out but Grimmjow noticed that Ichigo was content just laying against his chest. The young man was being very careful not to put a lot of pressure down over his ribs, and that was much appreciated. Grimmjow set the medical lubricant bottle down and reached across himself to stroke his companion’s upper arm. "Ya ok?" For eagerly hinting at the idea of having sex so many minutes ago Ichigo seemed really tame all of the sudden, like he could fall asleep contently any second or had changed his mind. The kid hadn't even remembered to take the beanie off. Grimmjow was horny but he didn’t mind if this was a shift; he was trying be thoughtful.

 

            "No I'm-" Ichigo stopped talking and sluggishly sat up, away from Grimmjow's reach and leaned back against the side of the drained tub. Surprisingly the man didn't follow him up. Instead Grimm lifted his heels onto either side of the tub and spread those godly muscular thighs wide in silent invitation. Looking over the body that offered itself willingly Ichigo smiled softly, “I’m fine.” He took a refreshing breath and moved over between Grimmjow’s legs with a caress over both of them. It was a different feel without them being shaven; he didn’t mind it. Ichigo reached then to get the lubricant bottle and drizzled it into a single hand and began to pump that hand over his own member to slather it with the slippery stuff and encourage his member to stiffen up more.

 

            Pleased just by seeing Ichigo prepare himself Grimmjow watched. Gradually he realized though that Ichigo's attitude right now was somewhat how he felt when he had to deal with Aizen. Lethargic and not really interested perhaps. Unfortunately Grimmjow was paid to always maintain an inviting poker face and be friendly when he was working. This was not the case with his relationship with Ichigo and fortunately Ichigo’s poker face sucked so he could tell that something was bothering the young man. "Hey, ya know if ya aren't in the mood to do it right now there'll always be other times." Grimmjow offered a soft smile. Unlike his situation with work he could at least offer someone else an out if they really weren’t in the mood.

 

            Shaking his head in disagreement and lifting his companion's hips Ichigo moved the lubed fingers of the hand that he'd just been masturbating with between the toned cheeks of Grimmjow’s rear and grazed them across Grimmjow's asshole. From hips being picked up the man's larger cock flopped forward and lay over his lower abdomen as it happily filled with more excited blood and stiffed without even being stroked yet. Ichigo dipped his middle and index fingers inward of the rings and gradually pressed deeper, stroking at the man’s sensitive prostate.

 

            The pleasurable treatment made Grimm moan and shift, carefully so that the pleasure didn’t stop but also so that his torso didn’t move as much to spare his ribs. He closed his eyes to enjoy the start of something really good.

 

            Ichigo just wasn't flowing into the correct mindset for this...why? "I- I can't..." Ichigo muttered with a furious blush, a little ashamed as he withdrew his fingers and sat sheepishly where he was.

 

            Grimmjow's eyes came back open and he set his feet down and carefully sat up to meet his companion at eyelevel and make sure that Ichigo feeling ok. He asked trouble-shooting in a softer voice. He spoke next to Ichigo's ear after reaching out and hugging the other body before him. "Do ya feel sick or..? Something I said? Did? Somethin' else?"

 

            "I just…I just _maybe_ don't want to fuck all the sudden. I don’t know..." _'Why not? Why not?!'_ Ichigo's thoughts yelled at him. He was a little embarrassed, after all, he’d started this. Ichigo huffed in soft frustration as the Grimmjow kissed at his shoulders and neck sweetly and soothingly. Cleaving to the second body which had a hold of him Ichigo found himself rather comforted and happier even though he was still a fair bit embarrassed. It was impressive that Grimmjow could be really gentle when it was necessary.

 

            "You don't wanna be on top? Or we could just totally stop and lay around." Grimm kissed the side of Ichigo's face.

 

            That sounded kind of right to Ichigo, "Maybe..?" Ichigo clung to the man a little tighter.

 

            "Easy squeezin' me..." Grimmjow could feel a burning from his ribs again and took a deep breath to get rid of it. “Should we keep goin’?”

 

            “Yeah.”

 

            "If being on bottom would make ya feel better I'm happy stuff your ass, make your eyes water and your body tingle. All those good things. Are ya prepped for that?"

 

            The younger thought it over for a second or two. It wasn’t a disagreeable idea and Grimmjow had a knack for putting him in a mood so maybe receiving would help. "I am. _Gently_ ," Ichigo remarked, coming back from the hug so that he could see Grimmjow's eyes and that handsome face. Grimmjow was smiling at him, which made Ichigo feel warmed up to the backup idea. It was also amazing how patient Grimm could be at the right times.

 

            "Gently," Grimmjow repeated in assurance. "And would ya like me over ya? Or ya can just kneel over my lap." Grimmjow's mind settled on this. It was a very good opportunity to prove that he could be gentle when he was giving it to his partner.

 

            "Lay down, I’ll sit over you. I'm only giving up _half_ of my dominance." With a short laugh exchanged between them Ichigo watched Grimmjow obey and lay back again, bringing his legs down into the empty tub. Carefully Ichigo straddled his companion's waist and now reached for the bottle of lubricant he'd borrowed from the clinic’s shelves. Ichigo drizzled more of the basic lube, flavorless and without scent, into his palm and greased Grimm’s dick from base to tip with lengthy, smooth, grasping hands. Grimm got harder pretty fast with that contact.

 

            Offered the bottle Grimmjow now took a turn with the clear, water-based stuff and got it spread across the palm of one of his hands and up his fingers. He set it aside, careful not to pivot his torso enough to severely rouse his aching ribs. They ached dully from all the movement but that much Grimm could handle. Reaching under Ichigo's raised crotch around his member and balls the lubed fingers found the young man’s rear.

 

            The orange haired young man’s expression relaxed into a cute smile with his teeth softly biting at his lower lip as Grimm’s fingers slipped in and out of his asshole smoothly. It was feeling more enjoyable for Ichigo now, his companion was keeping track.

 

            Grimmjow's gestures to massage the whole of that sensitive, puckered area were complete instinct; he was very in tune with how to relax his partners and especially keen to do so for Ichigo. Grimm savored observing the expressed appreciation for his expertise.

 

            The slippery hands switched their position and Ichigo was having his balls and gooch massaged next. He was about ready to drool with satisfaction… So good… Ichigo’s previous small amounts of stress evaporated all because Grimmjow was spoiling him with exceptionally gentle and thoughtful foreplay. Giving up half of his dominance wasn’t so bad. By this point Ichigo was all for a slippery, bare, venous cock squeezing its head between his asshole's tight rings and fucking him into a forgetful state of bliss but would Grimmjow really be gentle with such a big tool? Ichigo would give him a chance. Once the man’s hands moved again there was a fat rounded glans pressing its way up against the young man’s rarely stretched hole. Ichigo's muscles got tense immediately. As it started to penetrate him it hurt! Grimmjow was already pressing into his lover’s hole slowly and encouraging the other body’s hips to lower gradually instead of driving his hard cock upward with force. Seconds into the penetration Ichigo yelped and Grimmjow right away stopped pressing himself up and quit pressing Ichigo’s hips down.

 

            "Ya ok?"

 

            “Yeah, I’m ok. I’m just not used to taking it from you.” Ichigo was given enough moments to adjust and then asked Grimm to keep going.

 

            Gently as he had before Grimmjow continued lowering the slighter body onto his manhood, having to press himself upward less and less because the entry was slippery and Ichigo’s body was eagerly taking him in once the glans pushed past the gripping rings around the young man’s asshole. This felt…indescribably good.

 

            Ichigo quickly started to forget that the initial penetration had ever been painful because he was given plenty of time to adjust, the hands that held him were sure and gentle, and the pace continued to be thoughtful. With his own dick up, saluting properly, Ichigo hugged himself, bent arms wrapping around his torso and watched his own cock as it pulsed stronger with pleasure because the pain was gone. The fat girth of a full erection was still splitting him in two but without any the ache of initial stretching or skin catching and resisting. It was just flesh on flesh gliding past each other. With the will to take some control Ichigo seated himself as far down on Grimmjow as he could and at first just reveled in the wanted sensation of that deep penetration. His balls rested flatly against the warmth of Grimm's lower abs and he could feel the huge, slippery base of the man’s cock spreading him wide. That sure felt sublime. Grimmjow pulsed against him. Hell, Grimmjow was being almost too nice.

 

            "Ya like that?" The man could feel the velvety walls hugging his pulsing cock tightly and he was just as content as Ichigo to just soak up the deep penetration for the moment.

 

            "I _love_ that," Ichigo praised.

 

            Grimmjow kept his hands on the other pair of hips loosely as Ichigo started to move himself to get the pleasure that he desired.

 

            Ichigo rocked himself in pleasurable ways against the strong body below, even grinding his balls and pressing down his cock to rub it up against Grimmjow. It wasn’t so long before Ichigo began bouncing himself up and down on the venous member. He didn’t any which way that suited his fancy. He knew that he could ride this incredible member attached to an even more impressive man for as long as he wanted; Grimmjow would give him the opportunity. Some half-hour later while Ichigo was still into act Ichigo really felt that he was hopelessly a slave to this _thing_ , a movement, that Grimmjow's hips were doing while he bounced on his large cock.

 

            Experienced and understanding, Grimmjow varied the angle that his manhood glided into Ichigo’s body until he found the young man’s most reactive sweet spot; the one that rubbed the internal gland of his rider in a way that made Ichigo’s cock drool, the young man’s mouth hang open, and his body clench desirably. He’d told Ichigo that he’d make him feel good and he _meant it_. Ribs aching were just background noise to Grimmjow at this point; he was avoiding making them scream with pain and this pleasure from fucking was washing over the aches anyway. With light slaps Ichigo's balls kept hitting his lower stomach. It was delightful to watch the youth's cock bounce and fucking hell how tight Ichigo was felt out of-this-world good. Grimmjow’s ragged breath partially told of his enjoyment, the gasps and shortness of it at times when Ichigo’s ass squeezed him a little harder.

 

            Ichigo wasn't taking any breaks to breathe from his chosen speed at this to catch his breath. He just couldn’t stop impaling himself of the large cock that he had all to himself. The young man’s hands didn’t even need to grasp at his own member and stroke it to get off on it, it already felt so damn good. They were both sweating a good amount, though Ichigo was the one noticeably dripping with it.

 

            Clenching fists firmly Grimmjow didn't hold Ichigo down while he finally hit his peak and unloaded the first of his cum, a partial orgasm. Grimm found his limit at restraining himself in the avidly bouncing and squeezing body after a fair bit of time. It just felt so good and it was only partial because he was stubborn to let the sensation go. He loved the feeling of being fucked senseless himself but it wasn’t often that he had such a virgin-tight body constricting around his own cock. Grimmjow very seriously doubted that Ichigo had figured out that he'd cum with a partial orgasm until he reached for the young man’s hips, lifting them up so that his cock came full way out. Gaining a disapproving groan from Ichigo he’d left the young man’s asshole gaping and dripping with thick cum; Grimmjow didn't fully understand why Ichigo had really groaned of disapproval though…

 

            Asshole mostly closing back to the way it should after the large penetration withdrew, be the flesh all around it still very wet, Ichigo found it uncomfortable to have semen dripping out of his butt and was surprised by this.

 

            Grimm was holding onto the last of his orgasm for something…

 

            Getting his situational bearings Ichigo was slow to notice Grimm lifting heels onto either side of the tub, spreading his thighs again as Ichigo was still straddling his waist. When the orange haired young man did notice though he rather quickly understood what Grimmjow was offering to him.

 

            Grimmjow thought to himself about this being a really bad idea on account of his injuries, but he wanted that dick which had been bouncing infront of his face this whole time to find its way inside himself and fuck him as he enjoyed so much. Maybe a little jealous of what he'd given Ichigo...

 

            Now definitely acclimated to the right mood, Ichigo more than willing to do this, he would just need to be careful. Repositioning, he laid Grimmjow down against the bottom of the tub so that the man’s head and back could rest against the bottom and Grimm’s ass would be at his lap. Ichigo lubed himself again with several strokes of his hand and brought his face downward. As he seemed to enjoy, Ichigo probed the man’s presently unused asshole with his tongue, lapping at the fluids that had dripped down over it and also the fluids on Grimm’s still stiff cock and fattened balls.

 

            The exotic blue haired man was making a bit of soft, pleasured sounds while the mouth on him was finding its way along these. The fact that Ichigo didn’t mind tonguing him even after he’d fucked him was exceptionally hot for some reason.

 

            Eventually satisfied with tasting the lightly musky mess over those appendages, Ichigo had Grimmjow’s legs up in the air next and pumped his dick straight into the waiting canal with a quick penetration. Ichigo’s hands held the muscled cheeks apart at first. Either thumb also helped with spreading the hole for his sudden entrance into the velvety depths. Good god...this was never disappointing. Grimmjow’s body pulled him in and the man only groaned once as this happened; one long sound of relief to have this sensation. The warmth rushed around Ichigo and gripped with a vice's squeeze as he felt his companion inhale sharply afterward. "That hurt you too much?"

 

            Grimmjow tried coaxing his body into relaxing but he was just too eager. He took just a few easing breaths now to settle the burn of his ribs yelling at him. "Not really. As long as it doesn’t hurt ya, it won’t hurt me. Don’t feel like ya should hold back a whole bunch just because I’ve got a few aches either. Fuck me like ya meant it." It was maybe a selfish demand. It absolutely sounded like a desperate one though.

 

            If Grimmjow wanted it hard _so be it_. "Alright," Ichigo replied with a soft smirk. The fucking started and became a savage, starved pace; after all, Ichigo hadn’t been able to do this with Grimmjow for a short while and this time he hadn’t hit his peak yet. Hell yes he needed to cum. His hips rocked avidly and Ichigo felt the muscle of Grimm's ass bounce as his body and his balls connected with wet slaps.

 

            The blue haired man was in a bit of a crunched position to take a sound fucking like this so he was experiencing a heavy mix between hurting and feeling over the moon. As he found out, one couldn't overshadow the other so he accepted both together. The pleasure with the pain. What Grimmjow had held back of his orgasm before he let burst after he just couldn't hold his composure anymore. The pace jostled him. Eyes rolled upward… Mouth hung open, drool dripping from the side of it helplessly. He squeezed that inbound member to its very base in taking the full length and being spread by the width and rolled his hips somewhat against Ichigo’s. Once Grimmjow couldn’t hold off any longer he experienced a moment of totally sublime release and for it all pain was gone. He let go the last half of his orgasm. That was such a great feeling to have with Ichigo, specifically. Through partly opened eyes the blue eyed, blue haired man gazed up. It did something good for him to see that Ichigo was the one over him. Grimm smiled, tired, drops of his own cum rolling across his own torso…a sexy, satisfied mess.

 

            A chill came up Ichigo's spine looking down at his companion like this. He could tell that the pain and pleasure mix was affecting the man again when that smile vanished and Grimmjow alternated between clenching his jaw and breathing heavily. “You know you’re not off the hook until I cum.”

 

            “Take your time…” Grimmjow replied with a grin.

 

            Plenty proud of the fact that he’d made a man with great stamina cum before him Ichigo took his time, savoring and caressing the body below his with a pace that was again relentless. The young man allowed himself to hit his peak some minutes later to spare his companion too much agony but if he could have Ichigo would have fucked Grimmjow all afternoon and into the evening. Carefree, horny, and entangled in the bonds they shared. Starting to orgasm while inside of Grimm, Ichigo pulled out while his cock was still throbbing and gushing. His semen dripped all down the man’s muscled thighs and splattered Grimm’s stomach and chest and finally…with the last of his load Ichigo made a fine mess of the man’s handsome face. The thick drops and smears of cum fanned out, rolling along and following the dips of muscles and features on Grimmjow’s face.

 

            Seeming only partially coherent, probably because he was so satisfied, Grimmjow commented, "Ya blasted me on purpose." His hand was idly running down the shaft of his relaxing member.

 

            "Because you ejaculated in me, like I don't like!" Ichigo asserted, patting his companion's hip.

 

            "Revenge huh?" They were both in good spirits now that they'd exhausted each other. "Fine." Grimmjow flicked some of the semen off of himself at Ichigo and wiped a hand over his face, licking it afterward.

 

            Ichigo growled, wiping at the fluid that was flicked on him. "Throwing things like a five year old are we?"

 

            Grimmjow cocked a brow. "Only for ya. Pretty paint for a pretty canvas." He covered his head when Ichigo picked up the lube bottle and chucked it at him. The bottle unfortunately hit the already injured man’s mid-torso and made him groan painfully.

 

            Realizing that his moment of thoughtlessness had consequences, Ichigo was yanked down from the playful moment by his mistake. "Oh fuck, I'm sorry... I'm really getting carried away today."

 

            Grimmjow winced and shook his head, setting the bottle up on the tub's ledge as he sat up now at eyelevel with Ichigo again who was kneeling in front of him. He saw the flickering panic in the younger's eyes and sighed with a smile. What would make that go away? "Shit happens. That hurt but I don't mind." Grimmjow leaned forward and turned the water for the tub back on and set the drain down again; he had to be close to Ichigo to do that and wrapped an arm around him while he was up close. Instead of sitting back at a distance from his companion Grimmjow crossed his legs and got Ichigo to straddle his lap facing him. "Bullets and knives. A sore rib ain't a big deal." He was drawing on something that they'd talked about from the day he'd come back to Ichigo after having been missing for months.

 

            Easily Ichigo's mind recalled the origin of those words and fought his eyes tearing up. The young man wrapped his arms tightly around Grimm and buried his face against the warm flesh of the muscular dancer's neck. "You're stupid."

 

            "Ow..." Returning the hug Grimmjow chuckled at the teasing and swallowed his aches. "And you're stupid-crazy."

 

            "...make my eyes water and all those good things."

 

            Grimmjow could feel the tears now, they were dripping warmly onto his skin. He cuddled the enamored young man, a most loving sort of embrace, and breathed deep...the scent of sweet strawberries that Ichigo's hair usually smelled of - a subtle pleasure for him. Why strawberries? It seemed like the two of them had been here before, with him being a pillar for this growing young man and embracing him...where was the danger though? There was nothing so dangerous this time. This time Grimmjow’s affection and libido weren't hinging on a thrill, he was just purely enjoying a special someone’s company.

 

            "How do you make me feel better no matter where we are..? It's dang unreal." Ichigo sighed pleasantly. "I don't know if this is a lot to ask but considering how you help me feel better so expertly would you please go to an upcoming funeral with me? I know that it’s an odd request, especially for now but I don't do so well with those..." Ichigo recalled his mother's and seeing his father out in the rain that afternoon...it wasn't his favorite memory. Death was hard on Ichigo. "If you want to say 'no' I understand."

 

            Grimmjow's heart skipped a beat and he rubbed at the teenager's back, water continued filling the bathtub and lapping at their legs and feet as Ichigo stayed straddling his lap and clinging to him. It was totally fair to say that Grimmjow was clinging right back. The request truly was out of the blue and Grimmjow himself didn't do the best at funerals for the dead period, but he'd try. "The one glasses mentioned?"

 

            "Yeah, that’s the one."

 

            "I'll go." He'd traded Ulquiorra's gifted suit for a different suit that he liked better a long while ago so he knew that he had something appropriate to wear, which was important. Other than that all he needed to do was bring his A-game and support Ichigo. With a purpose like that how could he ever back down? Grimmjow couldn’t. It wasn’t just his after-sex euphoria making him agreeable. He knew he was needed and if he could help someone that he treasured and who treasured him just as much he would damn well do it. The blue haired man kissed the side of Ichigo's head and watched the visible corner of the young man’s mouth curve up. He couldn't really see Ichigo's eyes but he wished he could have. They were probably relieved.

 

            Two naked and cozy male bodies clung together affectionately in the bath, supporting one another. This was a spontaneous thing maybe, but a good thing.

 

            "I've got a suit to wear."

 

            "Good, we can suffer together then," Ichigo joked, almost desperate to find something to alleviate the somber tone of inviting his friend to a funeral. Grimmjow was his friend right? With benefits?

 

            "If sufferin' means we have sweaty sex afterward to break up the tension, bring it on."

 

            “I’m sure I’ll want to fuck you immediately after seeing you in a suit so consider it planned for.”

 

            “Saucy. I’ll look forward to it.”

 

            Ichigo continued smiling and suddenly changed topics. "That song you played for me when you first came back after we'd met and had our incident was the one playing when you picked me out of the crowd at the club wasn't it?"

 

            Well damn, that was a bit of an oddball thing to suddenly comment on. "Yeah it was."

 

            "We should share more music and stuff so that I have a lot of things that remind me of you."

 

            Grimmjow just smiled. God this young man was so sweet sometimes, he almost dripped sugar. Sugar and strawberries. Up against a blue accented sky… A great mix of things.


	39. Oh Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: mentions sexy things, maybe some light dick suckin’

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

_“_ _Oh Shit”_

 

 

            Her brother had been taking care of his 'friend' for long enough. It had been _hours_. "Hey!" Karin banged on the clinic door after shaking the handle a bit, finding it locked. "Get the front door!"

 

            Not having heard a knock on any door other than his sister rapping at the one barring her from his hideaway in the clinic, a completely clothed Ichigo declined with a barked response, "Busy right now!" Not entirely sure what his sister meant either Ichigo didn't care about her request; he was actually kind of busy sucking Grimmjow's cock now that they'd finished a relaxing bath together and he’d finished patching Grimm up. Whose fault it was that their libidos just wouldn’t quit was just too vague to say. Neither of them cared about blame though, it just felt good to have someone. His sister was silent outside of the door for now. Glad that she was, Ichigo was kneeling beside the tub while Grimmjow sat on the ledge of it facing him.

 

            Both of them were fully dressed and dry. With just his dick out, Grimm’s jean clad thighs were apart and Ichigo was a hair's breadth from wrapping his lips around the solidly erect member again...

 

            "Just get out here! It's the 'beard'." Karin kicked the clinic door. It rattled on its hinges but didn’t budge otherwise. "I don't like him and he doesn't like me so you have to talk to him."

 

            Unwilling, Ichigo felt a gnawing in the back of his skull with his chin against one of thr rock hard thighs that his face was parked between Ichigo tilted his head up. He looked Grimmjow in the eye and sighed hard.

 

            Grimm didn’t seem ticked off, silently chuckling at his companion instead of looking pleasured but in a moment the man shrugged. 'Shut up' the younger mouthed which received a 'no' mouthed back. “Go get the door,” Grimmjow whispered.

 

            Huffily Ichigo blew out a breath and the strips of hair over his forehead fluttered. Grimmjow was so dang frustrating in situations like this…telling him to do the fair thing. In a minute Ichigo called back to Karin, "Hell no I won’t get it. That's the worst plan for to get me to answer the door for you because he freaking hates me too."

 

            "Does _not!_ He likes to talk to dad _and you_. He thinks I'm weird. He asked for you. I already told him you could talk." She heard an insufferable groan from the clinic and knew her brother would be along shortly so she walked away from the door.

 

            That brother of hers listened to every distancing step until he was sure his sister's feet had met the carpet of the living room, now she'd be far away. “She already answered the door and now she’s passing this off to me…”

 

            "It’s ok. We'll do this later," Grimmjow suggested, attempting to get on his feet off the ledge of the huge tub. Abruptly he was sat back down by Ichigo who pressed on his thighs.

 

            "No, no. I _really_ want to do this _now_. Don't waste an erection while you can get it up right? That guy will leave when no one goes to talk to him and I don’t really care what he wants."

 

            Grimmjow rolled his eyes. The logic made sense but it was awfully convenient. "Ain't that a little mean? He a neighbor or somethin'?"

 

            "Yes, but he's my dad's friend not mine. We have…a mutual dislike for each other."

 

            Grimmjow placed a palm on the teenager's forehead and fingers combed back through the tangerine hair, preventing Ichigo from burying his face between spread legs. "So what? Only talk to him for a few minutes because ya have ‘too much school work to do’ or something. It's really fucked up to just ignore someone."

 

            Realizing that Grimmjow wasn’t all into this blowjob anymore because of his stupid moral ideals, Ichigo reluctantly let him get up and followed suit by standing himself up too. The young man just looked miserably irritated.

 

            Now Grimmjow had to figure out how to somehow tuck his hardened member into his well-fitting jeans in a way that didn’t make it obvious. 'Well-fitting' meant that this rather nice pair of jeans hugged his calves, thighs, ass, and hips well...the swell of his junk not taken into account. The material fit him perfectly enough to leave no loose space. This was going to be difficult. It wasn't like his lust was going to decline so quickly that he couldn’t just wait a bit. Grimmjow managed to fit into his jeans regardless.

 

            "You're way obvious." It was comical to watch the man zip the jeans’ fly and let go. There was a very notable bulge against Grimm’s left thigh.

 

            Grimmjow gave the kid a look conveying a 'not shit, Sherlock' in a facial expression and slight shrug. "Does that mean 'stay here'?" His zipped up crotch was looking rather three dimensional and that risen length continued down the top of his left thigh but Grimmjow didn't want to be left in Ichigo's house alone…something about a disconcerting feeling toward the man of this house arriving back here and being pissed. That was more of a nightmare really when compared to trying to hide a hard-on. "Can ya imagine what would happen if your old man came home and I was just around the house by myself?"

 

            "You absolutely _cannot_ follow me outside like that, so you don't really have a choice." Ichigo walked over to the medical sink to rinse his mouth. "Jerk off or something."

 

            "Your mouth's a turn on, my hand...much less."

 

 _'Uncooperative to the core.'_ Ichigo spat into the sink. "Don't you dare follow me."

 

            Eventually the clinic door opened and both guys walked out. It wasn’t like Ichigo could physically force Grimmjow to stay put.

 

            Karin was watching for them, looking over the back of the couch, kneeling on its seat cushions the wrong way. She was probably studying the pair for suspicious hints about what the hell had been going on that had meant Ichigo was ‘busy’. Karin immediately got a better account by just how injured Grimmjow was because of all the bandages he had on him. They covered one of his elbows. There were some patches taped to his neck, face, arms, and his knuckles were wrapped on one side. That also brought questions to her mind, and skepticism. “I thought you were too busy.”

 

            “Shush,” Ichigo croaked. “I didn’t realize you’d promised the old man that I was going to go and talk to him.”

 

            Karin’s eyes and words directed at Grimmjow, "Ichi-nii just doesn't like him because he said that my brother has an 'apathetic attitude' for mouthing off when he buried a cat in his front yard.."

 

            "It was freaking morbid! _And_ illegal," Ichigo defended and waved off his sister then stiffly made for the front door. "How did you even find out about that? You weren't there."

 

            "Kiss and make up," Grimmjow snarked at Ichigo as he stood back. The wrods were kind of quietly mumbled.

 

            "What was that..?" Ichigo growled just after his shoes were on and just before he was going to tug open the front door. He'd heard the blue haired man mumbling something, the tone had sounded sassy.

 

            "Shit..." Grimmjow muttered under his breath with a light smirk.

 

            Ichigo turned away and got on with his task. The front door slammed as the teenager went outside.

 

            "Does my brother even like you very much?" Karin tested from the living room couch.

 

            Grimmjow sighed and looked toward the testy little girl with a forced smile. "Sometimes I wonder..." There was a good chance, by the carefree tone he used, that he didn't actually have to wonder.

 

            Karin scowled at the man who made light of her question, having secondly noticed the lift on the crotch of his jeans and the unnatural rise by his thigh. She was a dangerous and bold little thing despite age and size, and Karin wasn’t easily dissuaded or fooled. "What were you doing to my brother, you creep?"

 

            The man blinked and shook his head, "That's really not up for discussion, kid." He wanted to deny the implication but knew that if he treated her like a child she might get even angrier.

 

            "Try keeping your dick in your pants!"

 

            Grimmjow coughed, "Excuse me?" Rather than questioning her observation he was startled by its bluntness.

 

            "You heard me. Leave. My brother. ALONE." Karin seemed to be protectively angry and maturely stern. The young girl glared at the man across the way.

 

            It was an awkward place to be caught between your own lust and the demands of your lover’s family members. He couldn't answer back with anything and risk her taking some sort of action or getting angrier. Grimmjow found himself put in a box by an eleven, or so, year old.

 

            "Can't you just be his normal friend?!" The little girl sounded appalled. "Leave him alone from today on or I'll tell our dad what you did to Ichi-nii."

 

            Instinctively Grimmjow felt a little cross about that considering the fact that she was threatening to fuck with his and Ichigo’s relationship. "Tell your dad what? Huh?"

 

            Angry that her threat had been called out Karin stood up on the couch, from kneeling, and threw her soccer ball at the person who angered her so.

 

            The ball struck the unprepared man in the chest before a reaction could be had and sent the full-grown man stumbling back. It was immediate and unbearable pain but Grimmjow tried not to make it obvious with a few quick breaths and a slight slumping of his posture.

 

            "That you had sex with my brother _again_! It's gross! So leave my brother alone!"

 

            How was that for a boner-killer? Searing pain and Ichigo’s younger sister confronting him about something rather personal. Grimmjow’s mind grumbled with all sorts of initial angry jabs and conjectures that stayed private. This was a little girl and even though she was rather sternly addressing an adult subject that didn’t mean he should say anything mature back to her. He was the literal adult here, and he had to act like it even though he sorely didn’t want to. Instead Grimmjow wallowed in his agonizing pain for a moment or two and then he _completely_ ignored Karin and made his way toward the front door. Getting his shoes but not putting them on before he opened it, Grimmjow walked outside. The door shut and he felt relief. Holy shit...had that really just happened? Grimmjow tried not to worry intensely about it for now. One problem had been solved by that at least - he sure as shit wasn't hard anymore. As Grimm looked around the Kurosaki residence's front yard was devoid of humans. Holding his searing ribs he scanned around for Ichigo. Where was that orange haired young man?

 

            Ichigo hadn’t gone very far and could still be seen in a neighbor’s yard. Far off Ichigo stood under the tree of the elderly neighbor who lived across the street. The same one that Grimmjow had seen outside earlier.

 

            Grimmjow squinted, he could barely tell who it was because Ichigo had the dark grey beanie on his head again but he knew what Ichigo had been wearing prior after having changed out of his school’s uniform. That was definitely Ichigo over there.

 

            Ichigo spotted Grimmjow coming outside before the man ever even saw him, maybe the fringes of his tangerine hair were good camouflage among the autumn colors. It was very obvious to Ichigo that Grimmjow was in pain as he stood outside, the man was hunched and holding an arm across his torso. Despite worry for worsening of his reputation with the old guy he was helping Ichigo was worried more about Grimmjow and why the sudden shift in his comfort. The young man raised a hand and waved blatantly with an arm that was held well above his head so that Grimmjow would definitely recognize him. Ichigo put his arm down once Grimmjow took notice and started walking over. He seemed short of breath as he walked toward the opposite yard.

 

            "Your friend isn't looking terribly healthy."

 

            "He had a fall. Fractured ribs." Ichigo was as brief as possible.

 

            The old man cleared his throat and pointed upward. "Well let's get back to preventing that sort of thing, shall we?"

 

            When Grimmjow got across the street he walked up the sharp slope of grass before the yard's flat section of ground to where the tree and the two people were. He looked up as both of the others were doing. There was a cat, a goddamn cat, about _thirty_ feet up in that tree. Grimmjow squinted to see the nervous feline through the branches with autumn colored leaves almost blocking view of it. "How the fuck-"

 

            "Watch your language young man."

 

            Grimmjow fumbled to apologize and ask his question in a better way, "Sorry, umm... How-"

 

            "He's an outdoor cat, he climbs things. It is quite natural." This old fellow seemed quite blunt.

 

            Ichigo laid a hand against the tree's trunk, "Our ladder isn't really ok to use either."

 

            "Don't young boys climb trees barehanded anymore?" The old man started with a look toward Ichigo which passed on to Grimmjow. He didn't expect an injured man to climb up there but he now judged the age of this obviously handsome and unusual ‘young’ man. "No military regulations or lectures to keep you out of fights, son?"

 

            Grimmjow's eyes finally tore themselves away from watching the cat and he gave Ichigo an uneasy look. "Fights? I'm not in the forces actually..."

 

            This aged gentleman was starting to figure this blue haired ‘young’ man to be more in the category of an adult just by the stranger’s manner.

 

            Ichigo glanced at the conversation's participants with mild panic, "I still climb trees with my sisters..! I'll grab the lowest branch and pull myself up." Diverting chatter at its best Ichigo was eager to keep them from chattering too much.

 

            "I'll give ya a boost." Grimmjow placed himself underneath the very lowest branch. "Get in front of me and put your hands on my shoulders." Ichigo followed the direction and Grimmjow gestured for the teenager to lift one foot. When Ichigo did the cerulean haired man made a step for Ichigo with the palms of his hands. "Step up," he commanded.

 

            In a careful but quick movement Ichigo set his foot in Grimmjow's hands and pushed off the ground with his other foot, reaching for the branch overhead.

 

            After a deep inhale Grimmjow grunted, holding up Ichigo’s weight, and exhaled as slow as he could manage under the pain. His bones _screamed_. Swiftly he felt the pressure relieve as Ichigo pulled himself up and scrambled into the tree.

 

            The cat yowled as the tree swayed in the chilly fall breeze, reinforcing urgency. Ichigo hurried to get to it thirty feet up in the air.

 

            "You've suffered a fight recently? Not a fantastic fall as your friend wants me to think." This old man was talking soft enough that Ichigo wasn't able to hear. "Those injures aren't something to balk at." When the blue haired man said nothing back and just collapsed and sat down in the grass to ease some of the pain the senior continued to talk. "Violence is against the law, son."

 

            "Hey pal, no offense but lay off." Grimmjow was reaching a point of annoyance at someone sticking their nose in his business.

 

            "My... I'm surprised that punks such as yourself would even want help to an old man rather than nurse themselves." The elderly gentleman looked sharply at Grimmjow. "Could it be that you're here for _him_ more than me?"

 

            Grimmjow knew, by implication, that the geezer was referring to Ichigo. Grimmjow squinted up through the branches at his companion who was still climbing after the cat as it tried to escape being rescued. The cat probably didn't see a large creature up the tree after it as 'rescue'. The poor confused animal… Ichigo better not fall out of that tree by going out on a limb to corner and grab it. "Here for him as a ladder at least, sure. My turn for a question, is it true that Ichigo ticked ya off?"

 

            The old man didn’t seem surprised that the blue haired stranger knew this, he was still very skeptical and believed that these two were at the very least friends of sorts. "No, but I believe he is under the impression that I am angry with him. He _is_ angry with me."

 

            "So that impression is out of thin air, huh?" One of Grimmjow's light blue eyebrows went up as he was looking at the old man now.

 

            "He told me not to burry my cat, Felix, in my front yard." There was a moment of silence as Grimmjow and the old man both looked upward into the tree, staring up, and thought about that statement. "I think it upset him on a deeply personal level to see something dead laid to rest nearby."

 

            "Because ya obviously know so much about him."

 

            "He's lived in that house since the day he was born. His father and I used to play checkers, watch sporting events, and go to lunch together with our wives. Friends of their family, me and my late wife." The old man's expression softened, just a little, while being watched by Grimmjow's curious blues as the younger stranger looked down from the tree to study the senior for all the wisdom he could give. So the old man continued to talk without his words reaching the young Kurosaki's ears, at a discrete volume. “He is a sensitive young man, even his father knows so, though I doubt that any young man would want that fact known.” The older gentleman cleared his throat, "You are most certainly _not_ Ichigo's peer or a student at Karakura High."

 

            "For all ya know I could be," Grimmjow asserted. It was a stern bluff, flawless in its execution.

 

            "Flaw number one: you aren't in uniform. Flaw number two: you drive a three hundred-thousand-dollar car. Flaw number three: you're being very defensive."

 

            That rapid deduction almost made Grimmjow squirm.

 

            "Why is it important to lie about that I wonder?"

 

            The next question was asked with effort, "Ya a _cop_?" Grimmjow pinched his tongue gently between his two rows of teeth anxiously for several large reasons like the fact he'd was hanging with a teenager in a house whose owner would probably address his presence as trespassing. That was a misdemeanor at the least. "It's a cop's job to wonder."

 

            "The best of them really do think things through thoroughly I admit but no, I'm nothing of a policeman. Just a retired federal judge."

 

_'Oh, shit...'_


	40. Good Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: n/a

**Chapter Forty**

_“Good Faith”_

 

 

            Ichigo pulled Grimmjow up against himself just inside the house by the front door and stared into the sea of those blue orbs in his companion's head. The two smiled at each other and shared a pleasing kiss before Grimm pulled back and licked the savory taste from his lips. Ichigo's hands clung by fists full of the front of Grimm's shirt as he leaned the man up against a wall. "Why won't you stay?"

 

            Almost chewing through his own bottom lip, the seductive tone that gushed from what Ichigo had said was reason enough for Grimmjow to want to stay. However…the man knew better. "Your old man can't catch me here. I just gotta go, before I stoke any fires I can't put out."

 

            Ichigo pressed upward and smooched his companion briefly to try to change his mind, though it didn't seem to work as Grimmjow smiled apologetically back. "You could sleep on the roof," he murmured sweetly. "I'll sneak up there with you...and you can stoke my fire all night long..."

 

            Grimmjow chuckled, hiding his interest surprisingly well as the light laugh was short lived. "I think I've rubbed some dirt off on ya."

 

            "I wasn't dirty before I met you?" Ichigo countered with a grin.

 

            "Maybe a little. Ya have some balls on ya already but I dunno much about ya from before..." Their voices were just getting softer and softer as they talked and lips came closer and closer though without kissing the words still came. Grimmjow couldn't fight off a smirk. "I don't even hafta ask ya to teach me about before though. You're doin' it already."

 

            It was true, since he'd come to know Grimmjow and the man's somewhat wild lifestyle- If Ichigo only knew the whole story... Ichigo’s young-self had been blossoming and opening up things of himself that he used to hide. They weren’t nasty or things to be ashamed of but things that had made the young man worry for opinions of those around him, for he feared being reviled. Grimmjow was similar to him in some ways and a protective, supportive person to all that Ichigo opened up to show him. It was the perfect formula to make a bold and full flower out of the teenager, almost an adult...eventually. Ichigo couldn't help enjoying Grimmjow’s warm breath and expressing his enjoyment by staying close and smiling. "I’ve felt more comfortable about myself since I met you. Not like I want to be your clone but just braver."

 

            "Brave huh? That's cute." Grimmjow pinched Ichigo's face on the cheek and made the young man laugh. "Seriously though, I’ve gotta go. Fuck me later, 'kay?" Grimmjow began to slip out of the grasp he was held by.

 

            Ichigo let the man go with a candid tilt of his head, a relaxed gaze, and a smile. He knew they'd see each other again soon. "Remember you're not a whore at my beck and call. You’re a person I care about."

 

            Grimmjow had the front door partway open when that comment made him turn his head and focus on the young man standing back from the landing.

 

            Ichigo smiled a little wider, playful with his teasing. "But we can still fuck later."

 

            What an edgy little tease. Appreciative of Ichigo’s kindness, Grimmjow rolled his bright blues and waved like an imp as he slunk out the Kurosaki's front door. It felt weird to close the door and not have Ichigo outside with him... From now he really needed to take better care of himself so that he could take care of Ichigo too so that by extension Ichigo's family didn't have reason for concern. Maybe that would solve his issue with Isshin…that and explaining a few things. In time. Grimmjow swore that he would prove to Isshin and Karin just how good natured he was, but to do that he had to reinforce _solid_ facts about his good intentions. Until then trust toward him was a castle of sand, unstable and able to be washed away by anything that splashed up. Fortunately when sand compacts it becomes stone…and he'd build a sturdy stab of hardened trust. He swore it. Outside of the house, in the early evening, it was dark by now and as Grimm walked down toward the short front gate he glanced back and caught Karin glaring out at him from the lighted living room window between cracked curtains. Right now he found it easy to pretend like he'd not seen her. In fact Grimmjow pretended like she didn't even exist, made himself believe it too. For just the minute long walk to his Lamborghini he kept Ichigo in his thoughts. It was selfish to think of the young man and no one else. It was indulgent. It was elating…but it was the best of his feelings. He couldn’t let antagonists bother him and he shouldn’t forget what one person had become to him. He would feed off of that positive energy. Grimmjow slid into his Lamborghini with a pained grunt because of his ribs and before he could pull the butterfly door of the car down he was startled from his focus so suddenly that he jumped, bouncing up and to the side in his seat. Something had come up beside the car.

 

            Ichigo's neighbor had slipped silently over to the Lamborghini in the dark and come up right beside the door a second after the man had climbed in.

 

            It was like seeing a spook, Grimmjow swore that in the first second he'd seen the elderly man that the shadowy human figure had red eyes. No so though. No red eyes. Just a scare.

 

            The elderly man stood right next to the open driver's door with hands folded politely in front of himself, a very casual stance for someone who had just scared the life out of a relative stranger.

 

            Grimmjow's mixed feelings of initial terror, some anger, and then confusion tumbled around in his head. "Woah man... That wasn't nice."

 

            "Ichigo's father wouldn't be happy to know that his son has a friend who gets into violent fights. I won't say anything to him about you visiting therefore I hope that mercy I've given is given to a good egg."

 

            Grimmjow resisted narrowing his eyes, not because the other man was hard to see, but because that statement was very sketchy. "Appreciate the silence, but why're ya sneakin' up on me again? Just to tell me that?"

 

            "Not to hang it over your head, no. For no selfish reason. Just to give someone in trouble less things to worry about. I feel a familiarity about you as likened to some of the troubled persons that I was appointed to judge in my career. You see...I've met men like you in court, and they weren't _exactly_ like you but they got themselves into bad and extremely bad situations."

 

            Feeling a little less threatened, Grimmjow swallowed a lump in his throat. _'A **federal** fucking judge...'_ "What'd ya mean by 'bad'."

 

            "'Unavoidable', meaning you have bad luck. I'm retired so I'm past judging you as a professional, but on a personal level I think it's obvious that you're not a tame human being and that trouble has come to you. It only takes one serious screw up to get you in deep with the law or worse."

 

            "Like dead," Grimmjow elaborated.

 

            The elderly man nodded and confirmed, "Exactly, dead indeed. Or even having to watch someone close to you suffer the secondhand of what you’ve done." He extended a finger toward the man seated in the Lamborghini and its tip was pointed squarely at Grimm’s handsome face. "For a strange adult you are mature, in several senses. After seeing your behavior I personally do not think that you're a bad egg."

 

            Even being told that he was basically being cut a break didn't coddle Grimmjow’s wariness enough to make it think that this guy couldn't become a problem if he did something that the elder observed didn’t like. Despite being glad that Ichigo's neighbor wasn't a demon, Grimmjow swallowed dryly. He couldn't help it because he was certain that at least half of what he did, owned, said, etc. was on some level illegal and questionable. Grimmjow didn’t kid himself…he led a questionable and blurry life. The adult entertainer didn't want to go to deal with the law or be on someone powerful’s bad side. Some people were those who said one thing and meant or did something totally different. Hypocrites. Tricksters. Other people were just powerful and watched those that they cared about like a hawk and as soon as danger neared…they took action. He would have to appear as nonthreatening. Honestly Grimmjow really wanted to avoid chance meetings with risky individuals like this especially while he had worthwhile things to lose, but he couldn’t wriggle too much or it might seem like he had something to hide. In a way he did. He didn’t want this retired judge to figure him out, as the man seemed to have a talent for deduction. A friend of Ichigo’s family identifying Grimmjow as a stripper or a prostitute, or even both as he was both, would rip apart any of Isshin’s understanding if the geezer told him those things. He didn’t know how resourceful or determined this old man might be to figure him out but Grimmjow did not want to test it. Call it paranoia or just plain worry that his relationship with Ichigo could be at serious risk of being torn apart. There was usually nothing good that ever came from someone learning what he did for a living… It was comical how Grimmjow’s career enabled him to display himself completely bare for utter strangers and screw some of them with perfect confidence but right now an elderly judge was giving him the heebie-jeebies.

 

            "Make no mistake, in the past my upholding of the law has sent men and women to prison hundreds of times for hundreds of reasons and illegal behaviors like being involved in gangs, theft, drugs, arson, or even kidnapping. I've never known an associate or friend to commit those acts personally so I have a mostly legal understanding and opinion of such."

 

            Grimmjow was half scared to ask, "So your opinion's still bad?"

 

            "I _don't_ condone corruption and unlawfulness. The laws here and many places across the globe only treat offenders as criminals because that's the only way that the law can catch fiends. In court it's very hard to tell a fiend from a fine individual, period. I do condone love. The abstraction and vagueness of what things like 'love' really are is something I struggle with after being held to a strict set of rules as a judge in Federal Court. By now I hope we both understand what I'm implying about you and young Kurosaki."

 

            Grimmjow wanted to nod but held off, he was still uneasy about this guy.

 

            "No matter what you are to him be a good one."

 

            Grimmjow’s eyes immediately flickered with a brightness in hearing that. What a thing to say instead of what he kept hearing 'don't interact with my son', 'don't touch my brother'. A reassuring bunch of words with a glimmer of faith for a stranger who seemed troubled but good at heart. The benefit of the doubt mayhap? In his heart of hearts Grimmjow indeed had good intentions, so he wasn’t nervous like someone who was a fiend with a plot.

 

            With that being most of what he had to say, the elderly man turned away and began to stroll across the street toward his own home and was inside shortly without a single look backward. Yamamoto was his name, Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto and whenever this nameless blue haired fellow in that fancy-ass sports car had the guts to exchange names he might lend out even more trust.

 

            Grimmjow watched the old guy the whole way, it was hard to breathe. What Fate had decided to give him this luck? And when was that devious Fate going amuse themself by breaking this luck over his head like a glass dish..? If ever.


	41. Sucker Punch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: violence, mentions sex  
> Secondary disclaimers:  
> I do not hold ownership of the gun type Sauer or SIG Sauer manufacturers and make no profit from their mention. SIG Sauer © SIG Sauer

**Chapter Forty-One**

_“_ _Sucker Punch”_

 

 

_Good faith gives us hope in our most dangerous hours._

 

            Someone's fist began to assault the outside of a certain lanky individual's apartment front door in hopes of catching him still awake; not hoping for a miracle really, it was only early evening after all. Loud repetitive pounding, a primal version of a doorbell.

 

            So far it had been an easy-going night. Sitting at his island counter in front of the open kitchen and staring into the mesmerizing blobs of color floating within a large green lava lamp, stoned, the sound at the front door was only a short distance from his placing. The pounding itself, immediately noticed, hardly bothered him as a sound but Nnoitora grumbled something about not wanting to see his landlord for a while under his herb-soaked breath. He rather hoped it wasn't that man. Starrk, a coalition of guys from the garage they all worked at, and Nnoitora had caused a bit of trouble recently while Nel wasn't around and disturbed some of the neighbors. Their landlord was angry about the disturbance and property damage to the balcony and several walls within the flat. Keeping his simmering joint on the edge of his mouth, Nnoitora decided to get up and lumbered toward the occasional banging. Unfortunately his door wasn't equipped with a peep-hole anymore, the door itself had been replaced once or twice. Definitely not his fault! Cough, cough. The door was opened only a crack, just enough to let out a small draft of air which reeked of potent herb and cigarette smoke. It was certainly a man who was waiting for him out there and under an umbrella against the darkening sky.

 

            The visitor was not able to hide away from the rain and had learned from his last visit. The man looked directly at Nnoitora from under the slant of the umbrella.

 

            Woah, unmistakable blue eyes! He knew this guy! Grimmjow! "Hey handsome." Nnoitora opened his apartment door wider and leaned on the doorframe. The pungent scent flooding out of herbs and cigarettes got heavier. "No call first-?" Hold on...what were all those bandages from? "Geeze Grimm...ya look like ya downright played fifty-two card pickup down'a fligh' or two 'a stairs... Are ya fuckin' alrigh'?"

 

            Though it was obvious that something violent had gone down the cerulean haired man nodded his head. "Yeah. Ichigo took care of me, so I'm fine." Despite the fact that the fight had been pretty violent and with Ichigo's ex-'something' Grimmjow shrugged and made the tale as casual and short as he could and kept it that way. Legitimate. Ichigo was worth fighting over, but that fight wasn't worth bragging about. Though this wasn't anything to do with why he'd come to see Nnoitora.

 

            "Ya should damn-well avoid pickin' fights." Plucking the joint from his lips Nnoitora held it in his hand, smoke from it drifted artfully.

 

            "Yeah...whatever." Grimmjow felt like the fight had picked him.

 

            Nnoitora took some time to process that short answer and the way Grimmjow looked when he said it. The handsome man seemed very sober tonight, especially so. In the past Nnoitora had noticed there was always this coolness that Grimmjow conveyed just before a situation heated up. Like the calm waiting period before horrible weather. Now he had deja vu; it was like going to get the Lamborghini all over again. What had Grimmjow brought to him this time..?

 

            Rain trickled past Grimmjow's bandaged features over the rim of the umbrella and some got onto the man himself; he was getting wet despite his forethought to bring an umbrella. Cold autumn rain... "Do ya remember...the night ya found me a mess in that back room?"

 

            "At the club." Nnoitora recalled. Barely alive. Raped. Hardly able to walk. How could he forget seeing someone like that?

 

            "I _need_ to confront the man who did that. He's one of my clientele...but not for long."

 

            Nnoitora's eyes popped a little, widening. Well if that wasn't the most abrupt news he'd heard in a great long while from Grimmjow. So this is what his handsome acquaintance had brought to him this time: another worthy cause. 'Confront' though? "Would be better ta jus' disappear withou' a word an’ ignore the fucker 'f ya ask me."

 

            "I _didn't_ ask ya."

 

            Nnoitora shrugged, his advice was shot down pretty swiftly. "Freakin' _pendejo_." Starrk's vocabulary as rubbing off on him at unexpected yet appropriate times.

 

            "What did ya just-? Never mind... I'm just gonna talk to that jerk and tell him to fuck off, nothin' else." Grimmjow grunted and cupped a hand under his screaming ribs as a tingle of pain reached deeply into him. "Fuckin' hurts-!" he growled to himself. "I want ya to go with."

 

            "Oh really? Scared 'a 'im tha' much?" He watched the rain drip off of Grimmjow, it was fitting for this mood...so fitting. Somber. Sober. Nnoitora could appreciate very real moments like these where people decided to face their demons head-on.

 

            "Who the fuck wouldn't be? This guy's in my personal information way too deep. He's gonna blackmail the hell out of me for calling him out probably but I can’t have him as my client anymore. He’s fucking nuts." Aizen was obsessive and Grimmjow knew that so well but explaining that fact fully and aloud right now was just a hard wall to knock down. Later, maybe, he could tell Nnoitora about more of the details if it seemed appropriate. The skinny dude would probably recommend a therapist out of jest, but in reality that might be a valid recovery stratagem.

 

            Both men were held in a thoughtful pause and Nnoitora broke out of it with words first. "Tell me somethin', and no offense but...why do ya keep botherin' _me_ , specifically?"

 

            Grimmjow felt the slightest amount embarrassed but he figured the answer was obvious. "I'm tryin' to make ya like me..."

 

            "Bullshit, ya jus' don' got nobody else ta ask," Nnoitora jabbed, cracking a grin and slapping Grimmjow on the shoulder to which the already injured man groaned painfully. "Oh, whoops. Ain't use ta ya bein' all _fragile_."

 

            "Yeah, whatever. I'll slap _you_ the next time ya feel bad and see how ya hold up." All Grimmjow's brain was able to do consistently for the next few minutes was pulse 'ouch'. At least it seemed like Nnoitora was fine with his request despite the jabs back and forth.

 

            "Well 'nyway, I'll be plenty 'appy ta go wit' ya, was gettin' lonely withou' Nel 'ere. I jus' got one rule if ya wan' my company though. _No guns_. Nada one. Wha' ya pulled last time with tha' pasty guy doesn' work fer me. Ya can be a bit of a loose cannon when yer talkin' ta someone who's fucked wit' yer head. If ya 'ave a gun leave it 'ere. Deal?"

 

            Spot on. Licking fairly dry lips Grimmjow revealed the SIG Sauer he'd confiscated from Ulquiorra a long few weeks ago, sliding it out of a back pocket of his pants he prepared to hand it over. Nnoitora had made a reasonable request and Grimmjow hoped that he wouldn’t actually need it. "Safety's on." If Nnoitora was there he wouldn't need a firearm to defend himself against that dirty bastard. Or would he? "Ulquiorra was someone special to me. I didn't imagine he'd intentionally screw with my head again..." Grimmjow's words failed and his voice faltered. It was painful remembering a fondness gone wrong. He didn't like it, even now.

 

            Honesty. Nnoitora tried to ease the mood with a smile still working on the last of his joint. "Me and ya are all good 'bout tha'. I sortta understand why ya shot 'im, jus' never do it again. I know it mus' sound somethin' like a dumb idea now, but ya pointin' a gun at someone most always makes ya the villian no' the victim." Nnoitora took the willingly offered piece and gestured for Grimmjow to wait outside. Yes outside in the rain. Nnoitora had been standing there in only his underwear and a dark tank top this whole time and if he was going out in the public eye he would need something else on. He spent a few minutes rummaging in the apartment and when he came back to the door minus his joint and the gun he was dressed better, meaning a warm cloth jacket over his dark top and clean jeans and dark tennis shoes. In one hand Nnoitora had brought a pile of folded clothing. With the other hand he lifted up a short black box that looked oddly like a gun and held it out toward Grimmjow. A fully charged taser, not locked and loaded yet and with its safety on.

 

            At the back of his mind Grimmjow wondered why he hadn't been invited in, Nnoitora was usually really welcoming. Grimm’s face turned into one of approval as he took the defensive weapon and examined it. Unlike a stun gun this was not something you examined and tested by just squeezing the trigger and listening to it rattle. This thing didn't tickle its victims and it could hit them from a distance. It caused _extreme_ and temporary muscle contractions and immobilized them.

 

            "There's yer new defense. Tha' one's legal an' on the defensive weapon registry fer citizens in the cities 'round 'ere...so if tha' guy seriously fucks with ya and I can't do anythin' jus' use it withou' a second thought. Jus' don' hit anyone in the throat or the head. 'S only on the registry 'cuz its purpose is ta be nonfatal. If ya kill someone wit' it we're fucked...cops, emergency med., the whole unpleasant sha-bang."

 

            "This is yours?" Grimmjow teased. "Your plastic toy?"

 

            Nnoitora gave the other man a snort of disapproval toward what he assumed was an actual guess. "I 'ave guns an' I'm no' trigger 'appy son ov'a bitch so I still 'ave privileges."

 

            Grimmjow rolled both eyes, clearly unimpressed.

 

            "The taser is Nel's. Make doubly sure ya give it back ta me 'r she'll 'ave my ass...in a bad way. She doesn' like me losin' her stuff. These clothes're yers by the way." The lanky fellow offered the folded and laundered pile to the other man again. "Jus' fer ya Nel washed 'em all. Fancy brands."

 

            "Thanks." Grimmjow took the forgotten clothing under an arm first, shaking the faint amount of water on them off, tucking the taser into a pocket carefully. He didn't want that thing to bite him accidentally, though it would be rather hard with the probes always being stored in a cartridge under the magazine, not on the snout of the gun where they could be fired from. "I still have to return the junk that ya lent me don't I?"

 

            The lanky man shrugged, "Whenever ya git 'round ta it. So it's gonna be the middle of the night... Where are we meetin' this creep?"

 

            "Florentine Central I guess."

 

            "Ya 'guess'? This ain' a formal already set-up meetin'? Damn Grimm, yer guy really ain' gonna jus' give us a good ol' welcome ya know."

 

            "I _don't_ want to give him time to think up any sick surprises. He does that kind of thing..." Bad memories threatened to be remembered at that instant with the mention of their maker's fiendish nature. Grimmjow shook his hands nervously and shuddered notably. "I may have called anonymously or lied about being a nurse this morning to ask if he'd be in late. He's supposed to be there late for a night-staff meeting, which sounded perfect."

 

            It was obvious that Grimmjow really wanted this by that kind of planning. The lanky man locked up the apartment and half walked half jogged with Grimmjow down stairs and out of the complex and back into the rain. They followed a path away from the building toward the Lamborghini while managing to share the umbrella, what little good it did. It was comical to see two men huddled and in a hurry like they were. During the walk though Nnoitora could see the Lamborghini at a distance and whistled, "Man, every time I see tha' crazy vehicle 'a yers I git wood...except this time 'cuz I am fuckin' _high!_ "

 

            That was such a shameless remark considering their proximity. Grimmjow gave a tense chuckle. He was patted harshly on the back a moment later.

 

            "Woul' ya let tha' stress go?" Nnoitora turned around, walking backward out from under their cover and lifted his hands in a dramatic shrug. Grimmjow did a great job of being pleasant but Nnoitora knew that this man was in a dark place tonight. He was just trying to liven him up a bit. Also, Nnoitora was now getting soaked by the rain. "Let it fuckin' rain! Let it pour!"

 

            Grimmjow binked as Nnoitora stepped up toward him and gripped him by the front of his shirt and shook him once.

 

            “That rapist bastard won’t know what bit ‘im. He’ll probably _cry_.”

 

            As Nnoitora backed off again and splashed through the rain as they got to the car Grimmjow began to laugh, following along in better spirits because Nnoitora was an amusing lunatic and he would probably be screaming his relief in the same sort of manner once this was all over with. This behavior gave an energy to Grimmjow’s soul and it fired him up a bit.

 

~

 

            It was a relief to have a little time to settle in while he drove his favorite possession. As the passenger played DJ he could feel the energy still gushing from Nnoitora. Grimmjow's MP3 collection was rather bottomless. Nnoitora flipped through tons of the other man’s music one band after another for a song or two before changing it again. Thankfully he never stopped halfway through the songs. Bumping music was actually another perfect distraction for a little while; Grimmjow let his tension go and just enjoyed the company and the tunes. The Lamborghini moved through the streetlamp lit city like a sleek shadow, yet because of the engine and vibration of the stereo, not so silent. While driving the rain gradually quit, perhaps a good omen for their quest? At journey's end they lowered the volume of the music before turning into the parking lot in front of the hospital. Out of respect or stealth was up to speculation. Grimmjow parked close, there were hardly any cars here so that wasn't difficult. Damn, the early evening was already so dark it felt like midnight. Grimmjow turned the keys back and the engine quit.

 

            Nnoitora was still plenty revved up from all the loud music and the fact that he was high. “So…we still doin’ this?”

 

            For just a minute the blue haired man sat in the driver's seat with his head leaned against the headrest. Reality was weighing on him. What he was about to do was dangerous. The risk it carried was noteworthy - pissing off an important man of the city that he lived in, but Aizen was a sick bastard. Nnoitora was right, not saying a word would be the best thing but it wouldn't be satisfying or stern enough to just walk away. Aizen had satisfied himself many times at _someone else's_ expense and Grimmjow was angry about it. Even if he did walk away without a word and tried to disappear Aizen might stalk him anyway. This was a method of self-assertion and a display of strength that Grimmjow felt necessary for himself. Considering that words were how Grimmjow planned on concluding this for his own satisfaction it was rather civil if one took into account all of the despicable things that Aizen had coerced him into. Some acts were worse than others.

 

            Nnoitora set down the device with all of Grimmjow’s music on it so it was out of sight in the vehile. "We still doin' this?" he restated.

 

            "Just...just gimmie a minute." Grimmjow sat still for another minute, he was nervous and coming to terms with what consequences these actions would have. Oh how he severely regretted letting Aizen do whatever he wanted. Starting _now_ this was getting fixed. With a hard inhale Grimmjow sat up and reached around the back of his seat and picked up a white beanie from the pocket behind the seat. Fitting the thing over his distinct cerulean hair and tucking up every strand he snatched up his black jacket from the backseat next and slammed it on over top of his damp shirt. Zipping the black hoodie Grimmjow, less recognizable than his usual, popped the butterfly door and got out of the car. His rib screamed their agony at him but the man turned down his pain.

 

            The rain had stopped for now so the men didn’t get soaked.

 

            Nnoitora watched and followed along, getting out when Grimmjow did. His tennis shoes landed on the ground with a wet slap because of the recent rain creating pockets of water on the ground. The water splashed his shoes and dampened their material slightly.

 

            Leaving the Lamborghini locked up to mind itself, the men crossed the damp parking lot and then the extra wide street in front of the hospital building which allowed cars to pull directly up and let passengers out under an awning which covered half of the street. Nnoitora shuddered for personal reasons approaching the structure. "I 'ate the look'a this kind'a place like nothin' else when it's dark. I opted out of late-night volunteerin' 'ere fer a reason!" He noted an agreeing nod from Grimmjow. The fall air was chilling and both of them kept their jackets pulled tight or hands tucked in pockets to fend it off.

 

            Grimmjow's white beanie that kept his head warm reminded him that he'd accidentally left his grey textured one with Ichigo. The kid could keep _anything_ of his _except_ the car, so he didn't really care but it was something a little funny to remember at a time like this. Maybe a tad comforting too. Most anything about Ichigo was comforting to him. Grimmjow made a valiant effort to not look around too much because he was afraid of finding the red eyes of prowling demons waiting for him to fail his task. They would wait with open jaws and mouths of teeth to devour the weak, the flawed…the sinful... "I hate hospital buildings _period_." Grimmjow took a pair of sunglasses out of his black jacket pocket and put them on before they got too close.

 

            Nnoitora noticed that gesture to put on glasses. "Could ya look anymore like a thug?" he jabbed in good humor.

 

            "I _could_ wear my pants halfway off my hips, refuse to put my cigarette out when I get inside - if I had one, and call everyone 'homes'. I’m doing none of those so shut up about the shades. I just don’t want him to recognize me right away."

 

            Nnoitora covered his mouth so he wouldn't laugh really loud beside his strange associate. "Tha' persona wouldn' fit ya at all, ya hick. Fine wha’ever."

 

            They strolled in through the automatic front doors which rolled aside with an 'rrrrr' and toward an obvious hall straight ahead with elevators. Between the two of them they studied a map of the hospital's floors and figured out which level the CEO's office was.

 

            "Dude...this is my boss's, boss's, boss type deal..." Nnoitora complained as they studied the building’s plans.

 

            "Don't sound so thrilled."

 

            "Fuck no. This is forebodin’ as hell. They ain't jus' gonna let us stroll all inta tha' place like we're buddies'a this guy, Grimm."

 

            "Well duh-" Grimmjow stifled his speech as he heard voices passing behind them, and turned slowly, as one voice was oh so familiar. In a richly woven cloth trench coat, light brown and very neatly sewn together, Aizen was making his way toward the front doors. Probably homebound, he was walking with a darker skinned gentleman...the one which had left early that unfortunate night that Aizen and Gin had taken advantage of him. Grimmjow's whole world turned red seeing that smug fucker walking out with his buddy like he deserved a great, guilt-free life. Something about the way that he wanted to approach Aizen changed in that instant. It was probably foolish. "Meet me back at the car," Grimmjow mentioned to Nnoitora. "I don't want ya to lose your opportunity to volunteer here because of me."

 

            "Wait Grimm..." Nnoitora hissed as the disguised cerulean haired man began storming toward the two gentlemen. "Wait..!" His final hiss was ignored. The lanky man grunted softly, turning slightly on his heels and angling himself so it looked like he was just concerned with the floors' map. Fuck…what was Grimmjow about to do?

 

            The prospect of consequences had stepped out for now, replaced by pure anger. Still physically sore but charged by his feeling, Grimmjow was steps behind them before either man could turn to acknowledge the quickening, echoing footsteps on their own. It only took Grimmjow clearing his throat to have them stop dead in their tracks toward the automatic doors.

 

            Startled by this, Aizen turned and immediately smiled, thick rimmed reading glasses that he didn't usually wear hiding the lines under his eyes as the skin raised. The CEO didn't think he knew this man behind him and chose not to acknowledge the scowl from him because the face he was looking at was so ruggedly handsome otherwise. "Is there something I can do for you?" he asked with a broad grin.

 

            The man with Aizen, Tosen, turned next with a neutral expression glued to his face. He was wary of this stranger's shady appearance and attitude.

 

            "We're done." Grimmjow yanked off his own sunglasses and flashed an obvious pair of bright blues, asserting who he was. Nnoitora was right, this thuggish look for him wasn't fitting or comfortable and unnecessary when he was being so direct. He almost felt silly for testing it out. "You're permanently off my clientele list."

 

            Tosen seemed to relax a bit, now knowing that this man wasn't a thug. He wasn't going to enjoy listening to this dramatic dispute…

 

            Disappointment and something darker began to awaken within the man Grimmjow stood before. Aizen shook his head and gazed into Grimmjow's vivid eyes, the color of which he enjoyed so much. "Sweet Skiy why would you tease me in such a mean way?"

 

            "I'm not teasin' ya, ya and your friend drugged and _raped_ me!"

 

            "Skiy-"

 

            "Don't! My name ain't 'Skiy' and ya fuckin' know that. I know ya know that," the handsome man affirmed while maintaining a corrosive tone. Considering the harshness it was surprising that he hadn't taken to violence yet. "I know what ya are to this hospital and that's how ya got into my room when I was here. You're insulting, dishonest, and dangerous." Grimmjow threw jabs of a pointed finger as he accurately accused the other man of being a creep. He really did want to punch Aizen in the heat of this. It was hard to control that anger.

 

            Oh dear. What a nasty tone. So his Skiy had put a few more pieces together than he'd realized. It was very weird talking with this whore outside of the club and being addressed without a shred of respect by the same creature, spectacular as the creature might be. "I just wanted to pay-"

 

            "Don't pay me anything. Just _leave me alone_ , if ya don't you're the one who's gonna get _fucked_." Grimmjow's scowl became more stern and his jabbing finger lowered and that arm relaxed. "Bet on it," the angry man snapped.

 

            "Please Skiy...forgive me." Aizen was still trying to manipulate the other man’s judgment. "I was at a lost the last time we met. You were so beautiful, I couldn't help-"

 

            "Why the fuck would I care how ya justify yourself for rape?" Grimmjow remarked coldly and flatly. "Shut your sick face. Fuck off, and never contact me again." The handsome faced stripper took on an apathy which he'd never shown to any client; it could bring chills to the spines of most anyone.

 

            Toward the savvy assertions Aizen's face gained a dark something. He'd met head-on with an unbending resolve, he could not tempt, tease, or persuade Grimmjow with talk. This side of Grimmjow was obnoxious, he hated it. Aizen fought off a sneer, watching the cocky blues in Grimmjow's head glare. So his dancer thought he was calling the shots?

 

            Nnoitora listened intently from his distance off and a soft 'ooo' escaped him when he heard Grimmjow lay out backtalk. Currently he was pretending to be texting on a cell phone, actually just holding his pack of cigarettes so it looked like a cellular phone.

 

            Tosen sighed at their conversation. Perhaps uninterested. Perhaps annoyed. These two love-birds were too dramatic for his liking. ‘Love-birds’ couldn’t be farther from the real truth but the man knew of Aizen’s affections for this man. Tosen was annoyed with them. After-all, he could be sitting in his comfy car driving home right now. A gesture later [from Aizen] and Tosen had permission for something more entertaining to do. The well-trained body-guard stepped up swiftly to Grimmjow and slugged the cerulean haired man in the high middle of his abdominals. Sucker punch. A fast, hard punch placed like it was knocked the wind out of even a sturdy man.

 

            Slipping out of his hand, Grimmjow's sunglasses cracked against the tile floor. A lens was damaged. An intense surge of pain shocked him and twisted his face into one strained by agony. Fractured ribs caused extensive agony that made it hard to even think and he felt instantaneously sick with it; he crumbled from that single hit. Falling so quickly made it evident to others that the sucker punch wasn't the only reason for discomfort. It was laid bare that Grimmjo was weak right now. Tosen was gestured to again and once Grimmjow was on the ground Tosen kicked him roughly near the same place he'd punched, a cruel second blow.

 

            Strained and pained tears welled in the corners of the eyes that the agonizing man screwed shut and Grimmjow felt like he was going to pass out. He closed his arms over his torso to guard himself and groaned with his face against the chilly tile floor, cringing and trying not to heave. It was hard to understand anything past the searing pain through his chest and gut, that was all his mind could revolve around.

 

            "Skiy if I have to I will re-teach you manners to the fullest extent I am capable of, and I will do so in any foreseeable way. I know what you are and you should _never_ speak so rudely to someone who adores you," Aizen informed as he stepped nearer to Grimmjow and stood loftily over the agonizing man. “No one could care the way that I care. Tosen…if you please…” Aizen made another gesture with his hand.

 

            Tosen crouched down to grab and then drag the suffering man outside with them when Nnoitora decided it was definitely time to come forward.

 

            The lanky man started yelling and making a huge scene like the lunatic that he was. If only chasing them off would have been so easy.

 

            "Back up!" Tosen commanded the weird man approaching them and reached behind himself like he was ready to grab something hooked in his belt.

 

            A knife or a gun…Nnoitora would have preferred neither but he wasn't willing to call a bluff and be wrong about what the other man was armed with. With both hands up and calmed, surrendering a foot's distance from the three men, he glanced down at Grimmjow.

 

            Aizen stepped over Grimm and began to approach Nnoitora, standing beside Tosen.

 

            Nnoitora caught sight of Grimmjow silently collecting himself while Aizen and Tosen weren't monitoring him. "Woah, easy...I'm jus' tryin'a see wha' yer doin' ta this guy. Has 'e done somethin' wrong?" Nnoitora was buying valuable time.

 

            "Our business is not your concern, slim," Tosen warned sternly. "Back up!" Nnoitora didn't. Swiftly Tosen drew a pistol, aimed and poised his finger over the trigger. It was his paid duty to serve Aizen and keeping this lunatic away was necessary.

 

            Nnoitora's eyes widened hugely, staring at the small gape of the barrel. Suddenly the armed man’s aim jerked upward and he began to convulse and his hand squeezed bringing his finger down on the trigger of the pistol. Click! Nnoitora sucked in a terrified breath.

 

            Aizen's eyes shot back to see what had caused Tosen to shake so unnaturally and Aizen himself went wide eyed to find Grimmjow holding a taser and the probes dislodged and clinging to Tosen's back. Tosen's fit body seized and went rigid and then dropped his gun before collapsing on the floor and twitching until the high voltage current quit.

 

            Transferring an angry glare to Aizen Grimmjow's blues burned. Pointing a gun at a curious bystander, that was low. Despite seeming sturdy and stern Grimmjow was still in pain and felt like puking. Nothing had happened to Nnoitora though, that's what really counted here. When Tosen had reached back and under his coat the piece had been accidentally displayed to Grimmjow who was just barely off of the floor. Grimmjow had seen that the safety was off and seized opportunity. He discretely flipped the safety on. "Your turn to back the fuck up, Aizen. Leave this guy alone."

 

            Tosen just laid on the floor groaning now. Grimmjow took his gun.

 

            Aizen's expression twitched angrily and he stepped away from Nnoitora and Grimmjow. The pistol in Grimmjow's hands wasn't aimed at him but Aizen would prefer it not be, thus he cooperated. There had been some news floating among...sources...about Grimmjow shooting someone else without the grace of mercy despite the victim having previously been very close to his heart... Grimmjow and Aizen continued their match of peeved staring until one of them gave in first. Aizen. The older man's eyes dropped steeply. The brunette was frisked for weapons by Nnoitora and then allowed to help Tosen. The two fiends hobbled out of the hospital lobby with plenty of glares to and from Grimmjow and Nnoitora.

 

            Once they were lost in the darkness outside Grimmjow stood in the automatic doorway and yelled, "MANNERS MY ASS!" Immediately afterward Grimmjow's knees gave out and he staggered, ready to fall over.

 

            Nnoitora stepped forward and grabbed the weakened man under the arms before Grimmjow could hit the floor. They were close enough to the exit/entrance that the automatic doors remained open. The cold air of night was rushing in toward them. Nnoitora helped Grimmjow into a sitting position on the floor and then knelt down beside the agonizing man. They both heard a car or two peel out of the parking lot and Grimmjow began to laugh almost hysterically.

 

            The blue haired man laughed until tears streamed down from the corners of his eyes and the pain from all of the movement became too much to bear.

 

            "Grimm..?" Nnoitora murmured, a little worried about the seemingly hysterical reaction.

 

            He was actually alright, aside from physical discomfort. Grimmjow’s arms clutched his stomach area and he tried not to breathe any faster than he could help. "I think I'm gonna hurl." He felt sick and shaky, not a pleasant combination, but he sounded happy. Not fake happy. Genuinely happy. Grimmjow also smiled about his small, satisfactory victory.

 

            "No' on me thanks..." Nnoitora requested with a respectful laugh. He watched Grimmjow curl into himself a bit and cringe in pain. Wow... It twisted Nnoitora's soul to watch Grimmjow suffer after saving his neck like that. "Ya knew the safety was on."

 

            "Y-Yeah. I turned it on when his back was turned."

 

            The lanky man was alerted by shoes on the hard floor approaching them from behind. Nnoitora's head whipped around.

 

            A doctor and a nurse came toward them at a brisk pace, obviously concerned. "Is he alright?" the white coated doctor barked. "Are you alright?!"

 

            "I'm jus’ hunky-dory. 'E said 'e has fractured ribs from somethin’ a'fore an' jus' put some strain on 'em so they're hurtin' 'im pretty bad," Nnoitora answered in casual fashion, after all he volunteered here and ultimately knew many of the doctors. "Don' call the police."

 

            "I wont. I'm just here to help."

 

            "Don't need-" Grimmjow stopped abruptly in his refusal to accept help from any doctor of this hospital.

 

            The doctor, Isshin, was giving the exotic man a sad and empathetic smile. Had he really just seen Grimmjow disarm a shooter to save someone else? In such a sorry physical state? He believed his eyes, he had. So this was the nature of the man that his son was fond of... Over Isshin's shoulder was Isane. "I don't understand all of what's going on but Grimmjow let's take you back to my home and you can rest easy there, ok? My shift was over an hour ago anyway." Isshin was kind in his offer.

 

            Feeling eased because of the kindness Grimmjow relaxed against Nnoitora and agreed with a nod. Isane sat down beside him with her hands on her lap; she smiled very warmly and that in its own way that helped too.

 

            Isane's smiling continued, "You're very brave, Mister Jaegerjaquez." She'd seen him save Nnoitora too and was astonished more by that than the hospital CEO allowing his body guard to be so violent. It was good to reflect on positive things.

 

~

 

_[A short time later...]_

            The front door of the Kurosaki residence swung open with a swiping sound against the floor. Ichigo paid hardly any mind to it, he was laying face up on the couch with the television on while picking the beef off of a piece of pizza. The pizza's box was laying open on the coffee table. If beef was the only flavor of the slices left he wouldn't waste it but it was definitely not his favorite.

 

            "Ichigo, I'm home. You ordered food like I suggested?"

 

            "Yes," the loafing teenager called staring at his foot as he raised it in the air and stretched his leg. Being lazy was troublesome, it made his average amount of muscle stiff. He took a huge bite off of the end of the pizza that he'd already taken the meat off of. "Karin ate all of the pepperoni side so there's only beef left, but we cut up a salad too. It's in the fridge."

 

            Grimmjow leaned over the back of the couch and got in Ichigo's face. "No sausage?" he joked.

 

            Ichigo's eyes widened significantly and dropping the pizza onto his plate sprang to grab Grimmjow and hug him. Oh how much he loved a surprise like this.

 

            Grimmjow dodged that attempt though, cupping his sore midsection which was only soothed partly because of an analgesic that assuaged swelling – curtesy of Isshin. He couldn't take anything stronger because he'd had to drive his Lambo back here. "Ribs," he reminded Ichigo with a half-smile that was apologetic. Normally he wouldn't have dodged such an affectionate gesture.

 

            Ichigo wasn't bent over it. So what had brought Grimmjow back, with his dad, and...Nnoitora? Ichigo sat on the couch the wrong way with his hands on the backing. He'd noticed the lanky man a few feet behind Grimmjow and gawked. Nnoitora and his dad were talking privately. "What the hell are you guys _all_ doing here?" He was so horribly confused and he couldn't hear what the two away from them were saying. What was this?

 

            "Long story," Grimmjow offered, laying a hand over Ichigo's.

 

            "Son, Grimmjow has permission to attend the funeral with us," Isshin mentioned as he broke off conversation with Nnoitora. "As well as permission to spend the night with us tonight."

 

            "Really!?" Ichigo was stunned and delighted so much by the second fact that the first's morbid theme suddenly didn't matter - though he was still grateful for both permissions. Rather excited, Ichigo felt like he would explode, a whole night with Grimmjow without having to hide him away. It was a wonderful thing! Since when did his father cut Grimmjow so much slack though?

 

            Isshin pointed warningly at Grimmjow before he began to walk toward his clinic's door to put down his work case and coat. "I am cutting you and my son a break tonight because of unfortunate events. To be abrupt though, you do _not_ have permission to have sex with my son in this house. Not tonight, not ever. Do you understand me, Grimmjow? I expect you two to behave well." Isshin paused just past the clinic's doorway to get his answer, staring squarely at Grimmjow.

 

            "Yes sir," the exotic man nodded.

 

            Isshin smiled warningly, "Good." Walking into the clinic he dropped his stuff, bag and coat, near his desk. Funny enough…the two whom he’d just warned had been having sex in said room not but a few hours earlier. The pair were trying not to look obvious as they observed to see if he'd notice anything out of place, leaning to look at Isshin through the doorway. They had put some effort into cleaning up - Ichigo mostly after Grimmjow had left. Isshin didn't seem to suspect a thing and walked out of his clinic with swift strides and headed into the foyer toward the front door. "I'm going to pick up Yuzu. Be good." The front door opened again then shut.

 

            Looking out at Isshin walking toward his car parked behind Grimmjow's sportscar through the living room window Nnoitora coughed, "Yeah righ', like ya two don' ever fuck in the house."

 

            "Watch what you say, Karin's upstairs." Ichigo didn't want his little sister to bust them.

 

            "Ya keep far too many secrets Ichigo, they're gonna catch up wit' ya," Nnoitora warned vaguely.

 

            Well out of all three of them Grimmjow didn't doubt for even a second that she would betray anything suspicious that they said. "Let's hide out in _someone's_ bedroom and not talk so loud, then she'll never know."

 

            Ichigo grunted and glanced at the half-eaten pizza in the grease spotted cardboard box. "Eh, sure. Anyone hungry?"

 

            Both Grimmjow and Nnoitora shook their heads. Nope..!

 

            Ichigo slid off of the couch, loose t-shirt hanging off of him and boxers not so squarely set on his hips. "Are you staying the night too?" he asked Nnoitora as he began to climb the stairs. Grimmjow followed directly behind him and then Nnoitora. Ichigo wanted to know so he could get extra bedding out of the hallway closet. The young man caught Grimmjow staring at his ass as it was at eye level while they were on the stairs... Tch!

 

            "Nah. Nelliel would miss me if I wasn't at home when she got off work. I'll probably call her to pick me up here, she's got the truck."

 

            The three walked up the hallway warily, none more warily though than Grimmjow, to avoid getting Karin's attention wherever she was. The girls' bedroom door was closed but so was the bathroom's. Ichigo pushed open his bedroom door. There were clothes and stuff all over the floor. Typical teenage bedroom. "I was going through my junk, sorry." He began to pick up things and toss the stuff into a pile in the farthest corner from the door. There was a television mounted on the wall past the foot of Ichigo's bed and a small couch against the foot off the bed. New additions to his room obviously.

 

            "Nice roost bub," Nnoitora praised the furnishing, claiming the couch and thumbed at the closed window beside Ichigo's bed. "If I open tha' window there woul' ya mind if I smoke?"

 

            "As long as it's just a cigarette I don't care. My dad smokes every once and a while when his sanity starts to slip. You'll probably have him chain smoking in no time Grimm..."

 

            Nnoitora worked at pushing the window wide open and getting his cigarette lit.

 

            After closing the bedroom door Grimmjow offered open arms to the kid. "Gently..." Though those painkillers and anti-inflammatory meds from Isshin were in full effect he was still hurting.

 

            Ichigo beamed and repeated 'gently' aloud then wrapped his arms around his close companion and received a deeply desired embrace. Grimmjow's body was so warm and firm and bigger than him! These qualities made for a very nice hug. It was really nice to be enveloped like this. "So...what happened that you came back with my dad and Nnoitora?"

 

            "Hooold on!!" Nnoitora interrupted so rudely. "He has to tell me about his fight first."

 

            "Renji. He beat the life out of Renji, my ex. Now can we talk about what I asked?" Ichigo barked back as he let Grimm go and sat down backwards on the rolling chair for his desk.

 

            Grimmjow took the edge of Ichigo's bed completing their chatter circle.

 

            "Sounds like a grudge match. Was the fight pretty bad?" Nnoitora prodded.

 

            "Bad enough to fracture my ribs," Grimmjow qualified. "So yeah... _pendejo_." He didn't realize he'd used that term properly.

 

            "Tha's my word. Ya canno' use my word agains’ me, fucker!" It was actually Starrk's word. "Anyway... Think 'e'll go ta the cops?" Nnoitora furthered.

 

            "No...I think Renji's probably embarrassed enough that he doesn't want anyone else to know." That was just Ichigo's personal opinion though.

 

            "Who won?" Nnoitora pressed, exhaling his cigarette's smoke toward the window. The plumes were caught in the chilly wind and swept away.

 

            "Wasn't really a winner-loser thing." Grimmjow folded his hands.

 

            A soft knock, a hollow whisper, sounded on Ichigo's closed bedroom door and then it opened. The sound had startled two of them, neither being Nnoitora - he was just not that easy to scare. He also had nothing to hide - the only one. "Excuse me but I need some serious assistance starting my car. It's doing nothing when I turn the key and I can't keep my sweet daughter waiting on a school night!" Whew, it was just Isshin.

 

            Both Grimmjow and Nnoitora looked at each other and shrugged. They both got up and accompanied Isshin downstairs and back outside.

 

            Gathering a thick jacket to warm himself with cold air coming into his room through the open window, Ichigo folded his arms on the open window's sill and laid his chin down. He just watched the three cast long shadows by the lights on the house as they walked outside. He sighed, feeling a little nervous. He thought of what Grimmjow had done to Renji over one word: 'whore'. It was a wonder what his god-like dancer might hide from him in terms of aggression. Grimmjow was no tame man, it didn't take a hard look at him to understand that Ichigo felt. What was under that healthy tan skin, besides something of a troubled prostitute with a die-hard survival instinct, insatiable libido, and mechanical ingenuity? No ordinary man, but he had a great heart. Nerves of Ichigo's began to ease. Though unwilling to leave the house Ichigo was interested about what they could do to help his less mechanically savvy dad. They opened Isshin’s car’s driver’s door, tried starting the car without success and then the trunk and lifted the hood to begin orchestrating a fix. It didn't take long for Grimmjow to have a handle on the issue even though he was sore. His physical pains weren’t enough to shake his focus right now. Nnoitora stepped back and let Grimmjow do his thing, waiting with Isshin and handing the other man tools. Ichigo had never actually seen Grimmjow work on a car for real before now but the blue haired man seemed so happy like that. Were mechanics supposed to be as simple or smooth as he made it look? How did he learn what to do first and then the next steps? The mystery of this ingenuitive man...

 

            Nnoitora helped Grimmjow pry the battery out of the vehicle, having unclipped it first and with gloves on Nnoitora began carrying it to the garage of the house to swap it for a better one that Isshin smartly kept as a spare.

 

            Before sticking his head under the hood again Grimmjow noticed the darkish form resting in the bedroom window high above the front door. With light behind that form that was a hard beacon to miss in this nightfall's complete darkness. So Ichigo was watching him? With the other two in the garage looking for the spare battery he had time to indulge Ichigo, waving up at the teenager and receiving a small wave back.

 

            Ichigo felt like throwing things out of the window and trying to nail Grimmjow on the head with them all of the sudden. Was this nonsense spontaneity one of the products of being so giddily attracted to someone? So helplessly wanton for them? Ichigo smiled helplessly with his playful urges swinging from his sleeves. Grimmjow blew him a kiss next! The silly teen pretended to catch it and faint by falling backward on his bed. He accidentally fell backward off of it.

 

            Grimmjow saw the silhouette's legs go up clumsily and laughed loud enough for Ichigo to hear, amused with his playful companion's antics. Ichigo gave him a new energy that replenished his soul no matter what shit he'd recently waded through.


	42. To Live. To Love. To Lose.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: guns, implied/mentions of sex, themes mentioning death

**Chapter Forty-Two**

_“To Live. To Love. To Lose.”_

 

 

_[Some days after the confrontation at Florentine Central, in the afternoon...]_

            "We gather here to celebrate life. To show love. To show dedication, and to acknowledge not the crime which took the life of this young daughter but to undermine the fiendish work which caused this. We undermine it by..."

 

            The preacher continued to talk while Ichigo sank further and further into a place he didn't want to be. _This_...this repetitive morbid sentimentality was enough to drive the vulnerable teenager to tears if he thought about it too hard, even with Grimmjow's arm around him. No family of this girl was present, she'd been dead long before reaching any hospital. Apparently unrecognizable and unidentifiable. A gypsy. Maybe a prostitute like Grimmjow... Maybe an unlucky school girl...a busy girl on her way home from a job with a cat to feed, siblings to greet and a boyfriend to call...just an ordinary person. She could have been any one of these. Reminded painfully of the corpse in the barn, Ichigo's inner thoughts quaked with unsettled feelings of sadness and disgust. It could be her... This poor dead girl... That was it. That was about all he could take staring at this casket surrounded by the doctors and nurses of Florentine Central - the only ones who seemed to know her now.

 

            Grimmjow looked downward at Ichigo, the teen shook and his pale hands grasped for the ends of his jacket's sleeves. He squeezed Ichigo's shoulder once, passively listening to the preacher. He had his own thoughts about this tumbling around in his head, similarly reminded of the corpse in the barn but with additional information from his trip back to the farm. The vicious dogs locked up in the space of that building had surely had at that corpse, he'd seen evidence of the carnage. It couldn't be the same girl as this one despite the coincidental timing. It wasn't the time to mention gory details and theories anyway. A single drop of rain fell from the overcast sky and hit Grimmjow square on the nose, who shook it off almost immediately.

 

            A single drop of rain hit Ichigo on the neck and sent an awkward chill down his spine. He had mostly come at the request of his father - neither liked funerals.

 

            "...and nameless she shall not go. These doctors will assist police and we will give her back her name and unto her family..."

 

            Ichigo watched his father stand with both hands in his pockets looking down at the closed casket the group gathered near had chipped in to pay for, and then came literal rain. A little more and more and Ichigo saw what he'd seen from the car on that stormy day of his father looking at his mother's casket for the last time before it was embraced by the earth. The young man sucked in a trembling breath as the rain got harder and harder, and people broke out the umbrellas to cover themselves. Lacking one Grimmjow lifted the corner of his very dark blue, almost seeming black, suit jacket and Ichigo hid his head and part of his torso underneath while hugging the man's vested torso and burying his nose in the scent of someone that could most always make him feel better. In this case though Ichigo cried helplessly, not so noisily but with enough sound that his father did look at one point. It felt like a giant mistake to have come to this event.

 

            Through the rain and under his shared umbrella with Ryuken, Isshin saw his son breaking down and cleaving to a statuesque form who was understanding of the grief he felt it seemed. This father knew about Ichigo and funerals, so he was proud of him for coming anyway.

 

            "Now may she rest, a part of the world, a part of the earth, and peacefully." The preacher brought around a vase with carnations for everyone surrounding the casket, avoiding approaching the sopping blue haired man and younger one hiding from the scene when Grimm shook his head at the holy man. It was a polite warning. The preacher was understanding and moved on to others.

 

            Some twenty persons with the flowers tossed them onto the casket while it was being lowered into the ground. It was a merciful and generous goodbye for a stranger. Now Ichigo couldn't take watching the box go down. He pulled out from under the cover of the jacket, faced away and just began to speed walk back to the Lamborghini. He could have heard Grimmjow on his heels if he was paying attention to anything other than the amount of steps it took to get away. He rushed a few of those steps over slick, soaked ground and got to the car first. Around to the passenger's side Ichigo went and swiftly unlocked the door with _Grimmjow's_ key, raised said door, got in, shut it, and fully locked the Lamborghini from the inside before Grimmjow could even lay a hand on the thing.

 

            Grimmjow was still trying to grasp, upon realization, how he'd been pick-pocketed for his keys so easily. The driving lights that flashed and the soft click of locks and roll of the custom bars to secure the doors warned him that it would be useless to try and open his door or the other one. Out of concern he peered in through the windshield, because the other windows were too tinted to see through with the sky being all blocked up by clouds. There was no light to cast into the vehicle really. Ichigo was in the backseat, soundproofed rather well as he cried his eyes out. Grimmjow felt some awful pangs in his chest to see the kid want to isolate himself with grief like that. There was a spare key deep into the frame if he reached over the front driver's side wheel that he could use to get in but the man didn't. Grimmjow sighed sadly and with hands in his pockets while he dripped wet with rain water he moved to the driver's side of the car. He leaned a leg against the sportscar's side panel. For long minutes in the downpour he waited like that. Oh how cold it felt to witness another person ache this badly... And there Grimmjow waited, a guardian to his hurting companion. It was all that he could do for Ichigo right now.

 

~

 

_[Approximately ten minutes later, it is still raining.]_

            An unpleasant sound interrupted the exotic man’s post by the sleek vehicle.

 

            "You're terribly wet, Skiy..."

 

            Grimmjow's bright blues shot up attentively and held in his gaze a horrible figure in a sharp black suit.

 

            From a distance Aizen grinned his slight grin and watched his obsession from a yard's length away. Gin stood behind the sick, selfish man with a large umbrella that kept them both dry - from the waist up at least.

 

            The alarm bells in Grimmjow's head were ringing. "The fuck are ya doin' here?"

 

            "She was brought to my hospital, as you know it is mine, for identification at a point so clearly I must be in attendance for this somber occasion."

 

            "Nice car," Gin added. A taunt or just a compliment, neither was sure.

 

            Potential and profane responses a many rang in his head but Grimmjow would flat out ignore Gin and fire his words at Aizen. "Well you're very fuckin' late for it."

 

            "Not to shift the focus too much but I find it extremely strange why _you_ are here Skiy. You were only a patient to us weren't you? Are you that well acquainted with my staff?" Aizen's voice dripped of venomous charm, more poisonous than his usual because he wasn't forgetful of the threat and confrontation which his beloved Skiy had posed him the last time they had seen each other. "Come...let's talk in a better way. Somewhere more dry-"

 

            "Restraining order. Fuck. Off."

 

            Aizen shook his head, "That is definitely a bluff and that's really no way to talk to-" Ceasing to talk rather suddenly he registered Grimmjow's cold stare through the rain telling him silently to 'stow it' and secondly a gun hooked in the exotic man’s belt as the dark blue suit jacket which Grimmjow wore was pulled to one side subtly by the holder. So it was _that_ kind of restraining order? What a savage.

 

            Appalled and discreetly alarmed by this man's brazen approach Grimmjow definitely wasn't bluffing about keeping him away. Grimm didn't take enjoyment from the wary look in Aizen's eyes through the rain, he just wanted the man gone entirely. "I will _shoot_ your goddamn ass the next time. Ya get away from me, and ya _stay_ away from me or this restraining order and I will take care of ya."

 

            Two massively aggressive forces cancelled each other out in that instant of hostile exchange and the brunette shut his mouth to further refuting. With Gin, Aizen left silently. A single look over his shoulder as they walked away on the rain-soaked gravel, just one look back at his gorgeous dancer who stood there in the downpour like an angry god and dripping wet without care. He saw Grimmjow cover up the gun and cross his arms sternly, letting the man know he was impatient for him to leave and unafraid. It was an enraging sight, but Aizen wouldn't let this one go. Never. The two unwelcome disliked men stalked off through the downpour. Now tension began to dissipate.

 

            Hidden inside of the sportscar Ichigo had ceased to cry because of the scene outside and gazed worriedly at the man who Grimmjow was scaring off until the two strangers left and couldn't be seen anymore. That was... From so long ago... The man who... Ichigo's eyes transferred slowly to his cerulean haired god with an amount of shock setting into them. So Grimmjow had an ongoing issue with this person? Shocked and upset for a new reason now, the teenager furiously wiped at his eyes, clicking the remote and unlocking the Lamborghini.

 

            Grimmjow heard the locks shifting and rested a hip against the door so Ichigo _couldn't_ get out.

 

            "What the hell?" Ichigo hollered from inside the vehicle and pounded once on the driver's window next to Grimmjow. He saw the blue haired man give him a very subtle shake of the head. Ichigo sat in the driver’s seat with a defeated look on his face through the heavily tinted glass. But…why?! Some minutes later Ichigo realized that he could probably have used the other door to get out...genius. He'd been distracted by trying to decode Grimmjow's gesture that was forcing him to stay in the Lamborghini. The youth threw up the passenger's side door and leapt out of the vehicle into the pelting rain. "What the hell?" Ichigo snapped. His eyes were red and unable to look normal as it was obvious that he'd been crying heavily. His hair was also soaked and dripping rainwater. "Who was-?"

 

            "Someone I wish I didn't know," Grimmjow explained, "and he shouldn't know that ya exist because he ain't nice." He had Ichigo's safety on the brain. Not just heaven knew what a vile man like Aizen would do to competition; Grimmjow had a few bad theories. Warily he looked around the rain hazed space. There were no human sorts of shadows lurking that he could see, nor a bad feeling which typically accompanied being watched, and Grimmjow had an advanced sense for that.

 

            The next turn of events came as another surprise. "Where you work, I saw him hurt you." Ichigo stated with shaky words, already knowing. From the beginning he was under no fantastical impression that Grimmjow was without cringe-worthy secrets but the actuality of this really bad one had been crammed down his throat. Its abrupt revival left the youth with no gentle way to adjust. Ichigo banged his fists on the hood of the Lamborghini, water against it jumping up briefly from the blow. "I saw him drug you and-!" he cried in anger, words breaking at a certain point. "And I was too confused to know what to do about it but I should have helped you back then..! I’m sorry that I didn’t…" the young man choked out.

 

            Subconsciously touched by the level of concern, Grimmjow's face still went from calm to partially horrified faster than he could stop it, also washed over by the rain. He was cut into by a reality he wasn't ready to explain, and stuck in a suspended state of reaction for the moment it seemed.

 

            "I-I..." Ichigo's breath hitched, "I saw him the first night I came back to see you..." Ichigo shook his head, a pained and angry look across his face. Now he had the sense to keep his voice low, "Why would you need a gun to protect yourself now..?"  The level of danger that called for a gun...Ichigo's breath quivered. Was this how much trouble Grimmjow was in?

 

            The handsome man didn't move, barely even breathed.

 

            "GRIMMJOW!" Ichigo shouted for an answer.

 

            Unable to find of a better way to react right now Grimmjow shook his head barely; his expression had hardly changed. Rain coursed over their faces and down their necks into sopping clothes endlessly. This had beyond overloaded them both, only getting mouse-sized bits of coherent thought back at a time. Eventually coming around to the orange haired teenager, who was standing and leaning with both hands against the sports car's hood, Grimmjow brought Ichigo into a much-needed hug. The young man’s head set against Grimm’s vested chest.

 

            Just listening for his companion’s heartbeat Ichigo heard it thundering. So desperate were they both to get rid of the other's distress that they'd forgotten to consider themselves - almost. That was quickly corrected now that shock had worn off. Selfishly Grimmjow enjoyed holding Ichigo, and selfishly Ichigo reached around the man’s vested torso and squeezed the warm form, resting his face on the partly soaked fabric of the nice suit the second body wore. The man's heart still thundered. They stood still like that for some time. "If I could punch something I would," Ichigo was still angry. "The drugs in your bloodwork were this asshole's fault. I hate that you don't just sleep with me, and me only..." Words stopped after that for a bit.

 

            Grimmjow swayed just barely, rocking Ichigo's form side to side as the teenager cleaved to him and they both calmed down.

            Ichigo held onto Grimmjow like the man could be torn away by a gentle breeze - tightly. He was swept up in the warmth and the scent of Grimmjow's cologne and moved his hands across the dancer's back, eliciting the occasional pleased sigh from Grimm. Peeking up he saw Grimmjow's half shaved head of hair dripping and his expression featured a smile.

 

            Eventually they both seemed to remember that they were _drenched_ with rain and realize that it was only going to keep coming down so the pair ducked into the Lamborghini. Cold-ass autumn rain. Ichigo pulled the passenger's door down at the same time as Grimmjow got the driver's door down and tossed his suit jacket into the backseat, shivering. It wasn't long before Grimmjow turned the engine on and ran the heat, letting the pro-street worthy vehicle idle.

 

            "My mother was buried on a rainy day like this. That's why funerals suck for me...and my dad..." Ichigo held his trembling and freezing cold hands in front of a heating vent as the air warmed. "He's had a hard time too. So thank you for coming with me." They dried quickly but it took a bit for the heat to sink into his flesh.

 

            The cerulean haired man sighed relief, staring at his car's dash. When he moved next Grimmjow untied his tie, unhooked his vest and undid its front, then unbuttoned the front of his dress shirt under it so that the warm air would dry his chest off. A moment or so after he'd situated himself Grimmjow leaned across the center console and started to unbutton Ichigo's dress shirt. The teenager didn't object but took the whole thing off.

 

            Without the wet material Ichigo's skin burned a little as it rapidly began to feel a lot warmer. "I want to hear the story about how you got this thing back." The Lamborghini.

 

            "No ya really don't." Grimmjow assured with a short laugh that was nervous. Ichigo leaned toward the man, lips obviously wanting something, and Grimm came in to kiss him. One of either's hands folded together.

 

            Beginning to feel relief Ichigo sweetly moaned into what developed into a passionate exchange, mouths melting together and bodies stirred with warmth...yet under that was a soothing feeling which eased away many tensed nerves. When Grimmjow's lips and hands retreated Ichigo was left longing for more. "Grimmjow, drive us home?" Isshin had brought his own car and could get back without them so they could leave now. "Sex and sleep...I think we could both use some."

 

            Smiling the blue haired man answered back with his casual tone of voice, "Sure." Ichigo was insistent and who was Grimmjow to deny the kid something they would both like? If they beat Isshin back to the house this was doable.

 

 

_[Later that night...]_

            Grimmjow lay on his back comfortably below Ichigo with the lights off and the covers only halfway up. The soft sounds of sweet kissing from the pair bounced off the walls very quietly. It was such a gentle sound, lips softly matching up and tongues licking pleasantly at one another. When Ichigo brought his head back to enjoy the dim-lit after-sex look of his handsome partner Grimmjow didn't try to move with legs bent up slightly under the covers and chest rising and falling with slowing breathing. Through that Ichigo found the man's eyes still electrifying, their vivid blue. Smiling Ichigo slipped his arms around the godly body he'd so come to love as he laid down and pulled the covers higher. "Mmm...it was good?"

 

            Grimmjow's head rolled toward Ichigo and his forehead touched his companion’s, who was also smiling and feeling very sated. "It really was. And ya were right...I think we needed that." A smirk tugged gently at his smile for a moment or so after speaking. Beginning to settle in with Ichigo, the Grimm’s legs arranged themselves so he wasn't tangled up in the blankets.

 

            Comfortably against the huge pillow Ichigo's head lay, feeling incredibly lazy after working over Grimmjow's body and satisfying himself; he'd spared _no_ energy. Both hands of his caressed the magnificent body of the godly dancer, from the waist up mostly. Heaven help him, that was plenty to touch. Along with skin and muscle, so sultry sticky with sweat and shapely of form, his fingers moved over the finely healed scars where Grimmjow had been shot in the shoulder and chest under his pec...and where the knife had cut into the man's back with several deep gouges turned to six nasty scars. What kind of a man did it take to survive that many injuries? "This feels a lot better than the rain."

 

            Grimmjow grinned, "No shit it does." He relished being held like this. By this person.

 

            Ichigo tilted his head up and kissed the man on the forehead, then settled back to where he had been to find something shocking in the dim moonlight from his window. Grimmjow was blushing. Ichigo's eyes widened a little.

 

            The man knew why Ichigo was staring like this... "My face is hot..."

 

            "I can see that..." Ichigo could count the number of times he’d seen Grimmjow blush on one hand.

 

            Grimmjow, blushing still, cracked a little wider of a smile and closed his eyes. He contented himself to settle in.

 

            "I hope these words have a good weight to them," Ichigo spoke up randomly.

 

            Grimmjow's head moved and eyes opened each a small crack's worth.

 

            "I love you," softly Ichigo began, pressing a kiss for a moment before continuing with the same softness of voice, "and we're crazy. _This_ is crazy...but I've never said it before but I want you to hear it, to know it." The teenager cupped the face he was talking to with a single hand, maturity showing on him.

 

            Grimmjow's eyes closed as he soaked up this act of endearment and let his head fall inward along the pillow and rest against Ichigo. He smiled, smiled so wide it hurt his face as long as he kept it up. His strong arms squeezed Ichigo to himself for a few suffocating moments.

 

            Gasping momentarily as he was squished Ichigo adjusted his hold and welcomed the man's head against him and arms around him. It was easier once the tight embrace softened. "You love me then...?" It seemed implied, so Ichigo's tone was cheeky.

 

            "Of course I love ya..." Grimmjow could feel his person trembling a bit with want of even more affection from Ichigo now that this subject was out there. Really relaxed and tired after today Grimmjow's further words softened in tone and volume as sleep took him down. They weren't even very coherent words or full sentences, but they were happy gibberish that was for sure.

 

            What a fine pair of people. What sweet lovers. Among losses, these lives, what strong love these lives were already bonded by. What enduring love…


	43. Thoughtful Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: mentions of sex

**Chapter Forty-Three**

_“Thoughtful Things”_

 

 

            In the morning Ichigo stumbled downstairs with a long yawn, alone. Grimmjow must have gone sometime in the night after he'd fallen asleep. It was alright, he had school to attend today anyway. He was freshly showered, dressed in his uniform except for shoes, and ruffling his hair dry with a towel. Descending and distracted while in a hurry, he'd nearly slip on the carpeted stairs... "Oop!" Bettered his footing. "Hey dad!" Isshin was awake ninety percent of the time by this point of weekday mornings.

 

            "What, son?" From the kitchen the indeed awake man of the house called back. There was no need to worry about yelling waking the girls up, they were already at school.

 

            Headed to the bottom of the stairs Ichigo continued, "I'm going to be home later than usual, I have something to do after school and then my car needs to go to the mechanic's for a transmission fluid change." The teenager's eyes turned up from minding his footing, feet meeting the first floor's surface and jumped in back slight surprise. Facing the stairs, Grimmjow was sitting at the dining table with a steaming mug of...probably coffee by the rich scent that drifted through the air.

 

            Looking rather comfy at the table, and dressed in spare clothes he'd brought for after his suit was to come off, the handsome man hardly batted a lash - not surprised to see Ichigo as he'd heard Ichigo before he'd seen him. "Mornin', kid. I could definitely save ya the trouble of goin' to a mechanic..."

 

            Ichigo settled down. "It's fine... It's Nnoitora- What happened to your face?"

 

            Instinct directed Grimmjow to touch a fresh bruise on his face, remembering now that it was there. "This?"

 

            "Yes..." Ichigo growled. "The very obvious mark on your smart-ass face." It hadn't been there last night. Had it?

 

            Drawn to the conversation, Isshin came around out of the kitchen with his own mug of coffee in hand, dressed in his hospital scrubs, to watch.

 

            "Oh, your old man here punched me." With an easy flick of his hand Grimmjow spoke about the incident Ichigo had missed this morning in an all too chipper tone; such made Ichigo's face take on a strange expression of skepticism.

 

            In the moment Isshin felt it was appropriate that he say something. "The only reason I didn't strangle him was because my angel daughters came down to get breakfast and ready for school." Isshin almost sounded like he was joking, but he wasn't. Grimmjow being chipper about getting punched and Isshin calmly explaining his would-have-been and now expired plan to kill the man...something weird was afoot... The father had a sip of the molten coffee in his own mug. "In all seriousness, I told you two to _not_ have sex in the house."

 

            Ichigo's face assumed an unmistakable expression of surprise. How in Hades had his dad figured that out? Were they too loud, a condom wrapper left on the floor…what had they slipped up with? Ichigo thought they'd been pretty sneaky. Maybe he'd never know. "Sorry," Ichigo grumbled, not liking having been caught.

 

            "I obviously can't control the bond you two already have, and Mister Jaegerjaquez and I had a talk about _this_ ," Isshin gestured with a hand between the pair, "over his haircut just this morning. As long as he refines his method of revenue I will butt-out of both of your business. Words exchanged give me the comfortable impression that Grimmjow is very mature but also sensible and intelligent." Isshin's eyes switched to his son, an easy look about them, "And well suited to let you grow up however you want to."

 

            Most of his dad's words were easy to hear except... "You told him?" 'Method of revenue' was what he referred to, a specific thing he'd wanted to keep his dad from knowing. Lowering the towel on his head to hang it around his shoulders Ichigo poked at Grimmjow, an intent stare forming. Secondly he inspected the bluenette's half shaved head and realized what his dad had meant by 'haircut'. Literal. The shaved side of Grimmjow's head, where there was one fading scar, looked better maintained; it must have been Isshin who'd helped him clip the hairs shorter with their razor. Bold haircut, it still looked good on Grimm.

 

            Not shrinking from the accusing sort of question Grimmjow matched Ichigo's stare and nodded before lifting his coffee for a drink of it. "I didn't like those facts being under the table. I told ya that once already."

 

            "Phrasing..." Ichigo grumbled, to which Grimm just laughed. He was just about to switch from agitated to nervous, recalling the fact that he hadn't seen his dad's reaction.

 

            "He told me a lot actually, we talked about a little of _everything_."  Isshin let that vague and intimidating word linger as he watched his son's behavior. "Is there anything you'd like to volunteer to tell me, son? Like how you even got into the club where Grimmjow works…"

 

            Nervousness be damned. The pressure was on. Ichigo squirmed for a moment and gave the dark haired man a wincing look, "I have a fake ID?" He tried to smile but the fact came out more odd than natural. He didn't want to tell his dad that but it might be better now than later.

 

            An eyebrow of Isshin's lifted and he had a slight bit of a grin on his face, a knowing grin. "One that you're not getting back. I better have it in my hand by tomorrow." He _did_ already know about that, or had figured it, because that was the only way his son could have been admitted into an adult club short of sneaking in. As proven though...his son wasn't an ace at being sneaky. "Thank you for your honesty, son." Isshin's vision switched to Grimmjow.

 

            Upon note of the eyes Grimmjow’s posture straightened a little as the look reminded him what he had said he'd like to tell Ichigo when the teenager woke up. Two things actually. "Breakfast's waitin' for ya in the kitchen Ichi...and since ya were thinkin' about this, the girl from yesterday wasn't the same girl we found."

 

            Probably out of shock, but maybe relief, Ichigo's bookbag dropped on the floor and leaned against the wall by the stairs where he'd been stopped and standing all this time. "What'd you mean?"

 

            Presently Isshin had more specific information to add which he'd already discussed with Grimmjow, "Other hospitals have received and found unidentifiable people over the past three or more years that were part of unsolvable crimes. I spoke with some staff members at Ryuken's hospital and three others. Victims of male and female gender, they all died exactly like the girl we buried yesterday - beaten to death and other identifiable features removed. The dead girl you saw in that barn, as Grimmjow has explained, seems to have almost the same...situation."

 

            Grimmjow cut in, "Except the corpse we saw, Ichi, was eaten by the attack dogs that bit me. Probably fed to 'em because we were there as witnesses. Instead of killin' us and makin' three corpses it was easier to destroy the evidence of one and dump us fish back into the pond. I feel like somethin' tipped them off that we weren't the type who could or would go straight to the cops. That probably saved our lives."

 

            Ichigo's shoulders fell a little, he seemed thoughtful on that subject.

 

            With a click of his tongue and leaning on the back of his chair Grimmjow continued after a moment, "Anyway, that's what I found out when I went to get my Lambo back. A grim few details weren't somethin' ya needed to hear yesterday so here it is today."

 

            Cringing a breath later, Ichigo's eyes closed with a shake of his head. What a horrible thought to be _consumed_ by dogs.

 

            "To be clear on this, because it seems like you both were involved in something infinitely worse than I was initially told...and again, am not terribly angry about anymore Mister Jaegerjaquez..." Isshin gave a checking glance to the exotic man who did seem to need to hear that a few more times, "I do not expect you two to talk to the police, because as witnesses you would have to admit to spending unsupervised time with each other. I think it's obvious what that could lead to and I do not want to complicate life for either of you or make it hard for you two to be together. Instead, as a solution, we will _all_ three sit down with Mister Yamamoto across the street and talk to him sometime soon."

 

            Ichigo grumbled, "That old guy..?"

 

            "Yes. That very nice old man and friend of mine who has a deep understanding of crimes and the law. This is nonnegotiable considering the fact that those anonymous attackers, who brought that dead girl along, had themselves a good look at both of you and probably Grimmjow's identification in his wallet."

 

            "They kinda vandalized my ride too so...that's a piece of evidence they might get nervous about missin'."

 

            Ichigo's eyes narrowed and shifted between the men; he didn't like what they were implying by talking this way. Didn't like it because it made a ton of sense... "You think we're not safe?" he blurted out. Ichigo had hoped that they'd left what they'd seen and their involvement in that crime far behind when the assailants had beaten the both of them and dumped them separately.

 

            Grimmjow piped up, "I think they ain't got much of a clue who _ya_ are but they almost certainly have a fuckin' exact idea of who I am."

 

            "Language," Isshin remarked and got an instantaneous apology from Grimmjow. "I think this is both of your best chances at being safe without sending either of you into police custody for questioning, hmm?"

 

            Grimmjow just grunted to that even though he very much agreed.

 

            "Otherwise, Mister Jaegerjaquez you have another issue which I think I should help you address. We will talk separately about your relations with my boss who approached you yesterday. I feel that…his involvement with you is something that puts you on edge and if can help I want to."

 

            Ichigo could feel his brain grinding its gears, not shifted properly with all of this information and junk tumbling around in there. His dad's boss?! Is that who that was? What a sick circle this was all forming into. Not wanting to remember the man he'd seen drug Grimmjow and revisit the mixed feelings of arousal and disgust that he'd felt, Ichigo shrank away from the heavy conversation with a long sigh and went into the kitchen to get breakfast. A well-seasoned pair of scrambled eggs, fried tomatoes, toast, and orange juice sat with plastic over them to keep them fresh and the food warm. Peeling the plastic back Ichigo cracked a smile and lifted the plate and cup up. Who had cooked this? "Grimmjow..."

 

            "Uh, yeah?" Grimmjow watched as Isshin silently snuck outside to the front yard for a well needed cigarette and said nothing, respectful of another man's secrets.

 

            "You left your license in here...under my plate." Ichigo walked around the corner of the kitchen to sit down at the table and eat. He sat across from Grimmjow and set the card in front of the man. "Why was that _deliberately_ placed there?" the teenager asked, starting to eat his meal. This was cooked really well, delicious!

 

            It was nice to watch the kid enjoying the food he'd made; he rarely cooked for anyone save himself. Grimmjow turned the license around and pointed to the 'D.O.B.'.

 

            Interested, Ichigo looked harder at it with a mouthful of food. He coughed momentarily realizing that the year on the license was three years off. His hazel eyes turned upward with curiosity.

 

            "Since we're in the middle of tellin' truths I thought ya should know this is my actual age. We're almost ten years apart." With that the handsome man sat back in his chair and laid his arms across his chest and watched Ichigo.

 

            This meant Grimmjow was twenty-seven, not twenty-four years old. Ichigo resumed eating his meal quickly. "I never thought of you as an age anyway." He'd taken it rather well; the fact was just about brushed under the rug. He swallowed a bite of the delicious food, eggs and tomatoes mixed, hurrying a bit because he was going to be late for first period if he didn't get going. "At least older guys are hot." He winked up at Grimmjow who shook his head with a grin, probably feeling relieved, but he had to wonder... "Why do you need a false age?"

 

            "It would have prolonged my career in porn and otherwise adult themed entertainment."

 

            Ichigo licked food off the corner of his mouth. "You were in porn?"

 

            "That surprises ya?" Grimmjow questioned, his grin lifting up more on one side. He wasn't necessarily proud of that, but right now he was amused with the reaction it got.

 

            “You owe me proof.”

 

            Grimmjow scoffed slightly. “As if I keep copies of such terrible acting.”

 

            With a snort Ichigo rolled his eyes and finished off the food, drinking the glass of orange juice in one long hit. Older guys were kind of hot...at least if they looked and felt anything like Grimmjow. Ichigo counted himself fortunate to have someone sensational, handsome, _and_ intelligent. Brains were certainly attractive too. The teenager gasped after the juice was gone and jumped up from the table, very satisfied. "Thank you a lot for breakfast, you sure can cook... I've got to go though." He circled around the dining table and leaned over Grimmjow, giving him a quick kiss.

 

            Unsatisfied with just one, Grimmjow grabbed onto Ichigo's shoulders and got another kiss out of the young man. "Hey, I'll drive ya to school so ya can leave your car here and I’ll change the transmission fluid for ya."

 

            "You wouldn't mind?" Ichigo's hazel eyes moved a little, studying the man’s for any hint of hesitation - of which there was none.

 

            "If ya don't think it'd offend Nnoitora, not even slightly." He had a few other things he was going to check with the vehicle and surprise Ichigo with them later...sly and capable fellow that he was.

 

~

 

            Grimmjow's Lamborghini pulled up directly in front of the school gates and parked to let its passenger out. Sitting there loping and shining in all of its impressive glory Ichigo was having a hard time because he'd asked Grimmjow to not let him out where everyone could see. "There ain't no one around, you're late remember?"

 

            "Almost late..." Ichigo corrected, sliding out of the passenger's seat and collecting his things. "Thanks though, pain in my ass."

 

            Grimmjow cocked a brow up, not taking the insult as such. "Love ya too..." he countered. Besides, 'pain in the ass'...who fucked who usually? Grimmjow's ass probably had more right to complain.

 

            "Dang right you do," Ichigo boasted, rather cocky. "Love you too. Bye." He straightened up and shut the passenger's butterfly door. In the next second Ichigo was running up toward the school's front entrance with some excellent speed; did he really needed to haul that much ass? The first bell rang just about the time Ichigo got past the glass doors and he looked back to see Grimmjow's car pull away from the curb and drive off. Definitely more enamored with his dancer than ever the young man sighed happily and walked into the building with a huge grin on his face. Five years. Ten years. Fifteen years. Whatever age gap there was Ichigo didn't mind it as long as Grimmjow's edge never dulled. He suspected that it never would.

 

            Through the halls at the front of the building that he had to trek to get to class Ichigo did notice the glances of several students lingering; he didn't know why specifically but they were watching him. Hollow echoes followed his rushed footsteps. They'd seen him get out of an expensive sportscar maybe? Through one of the many windows of the school building perhaps? That would certainly be enough to stir this kind of attention.

 

            Ichigo reached his class's floor and pushed aside the siding door in time for the second bell. The teacher of his first period gave Ichigo a look as soon as he walked in just at the tone. The rest of the class was in the room and they all looked at the almost latecomer. "On time today? Are you feeling alright?" That meant she was actually impressed.

 

            Ichigo grunted at his teacher, Misato, teasing him in front of the whole class again. "Feeling fine. Thanks for asking." He was heading to his seat, but by the time Ichigo had gotten there and set his belongings down his teacher had another piece of information for him.

 

            "The front office needs to see you Kurosaki."

 

            Ichigo looked up with his brows scrunched, "What?" The rest of the class began to mumble and some laugh as Orihime, Chad, Uryu, Keigo, Tatsuki - one of Orihime's friends - and Renji all seemed to stare at Ichigo in silence. This would certainly be the talk of the lunch table, minus Renji. Wait a second! Why was Renji even in his class today? They weren’t part of the same class at all. Ichigo had noticed the redhead rather quickly once he was at his desk but wasn't given the time to wonder.

 

            "I don't know why they need you, but you better walk fast or you'll miss the start of the movie we will be watching and later discussing. It's not a boring one either." She clapped her book down on the front desk and the mumbling class got dead quiet. "Now...let's get started on why we're watching the something like this in class."

 

            The movie's title was on the board for the class to view but Ichigo could care less considering the fact he tried to avoid going to the office and was now required to go there. What an annoyance first thing in the morning... What could they possibly want?


	44. Into the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: nudity

**Chapter Forty-Four**

_“Into the Sky”_

 

 

            "Wan' a beer, Grimm?" Wood on the doorframe of the office creaked as Nnoitora leaned against it and let go of a long sigh. The two had together brought their vehicles and Ichigo's Mazda6 to the place where Nnoitora and his friends worked, Starrk's garage, and had been working for several hours this morning on the vehicles. No other mechanics were here as the appointments for this week were painfully slim - just one scheduled for Starrk so far, the owner of the business.

 

            Changing and cleaning the Mazda's transmission had been the easiest of the labor. Grimmjow did most of it alone. The most pleasant aspect of this though had to be the fact that he had company right now. "Sure if you've got some."

 

            "'Course I got 'em... wouldn' offer wha' I don' 'ave ta give." Nnoitora hadn't moved a muscle other than sharp little eyes in the man's head turning toward small windows in the closed bay doors and suddenly the whole garage lost power.

 

            In the dark there was a resounding yet calm, "Fuck." Which man it came from didn't really matter. A tool's metallic ring sounded through the darkened garage in the next minute as it dropped and the rustling sounds from the Nnoitora going into the office and rummaging followed.

 

            Nnoitora switched on a flashlight he'd found in Starrk's desk and pointed it outside of the office where Grimmjow had last been. Still there, squinting into the bright light as Nnoitora blinded the exotic man for a moment, it seemed that Grimm wasn't a human bent on getting a cheap laugh out of scaring other humans just because it was a little dark and distracting – he hadn’t tried to sneak up on Nnoitora. The flashlight's beam transferred toward the small windows in the bay door nearest. "Bad weather."

 

            "Probably." Blue eyes picked up on flurries of snow through the small windows of several bay doors. There hadn't been a high chance of that today at all. What was this nonsense weather for then? The only thing to suppose was that this was happening because it was getting close to winter. "Have we really been locked up in here for long enough for a freaking blizzard to happen? Looks like winter out there and I swear it's only been a few hours."

 

            Leaving the office to get a better eye for their situation Nnoitora walked to the normal entrance and exit door of the garage and cracked it open. Huge flecks of snow whipped side to side in the wind and with the wind trying to tug the door out of his hand he quickly shut it because of the cold. It was approaching winter but it shouldn't be here yet. "Yeah, outside's a world'a 'no thank ya' righ' 'bout now but I dunno 'ow it's gotten ta be all this sortta fucked up so quick. We really only been ‘ere a few hours an' it ain't _tha'_ cold ou'side. Wonder who else's gone an' los' their power." Nnoitora's eyes caught on Grimmjow's Lamborghini, parked a few bay spots over in the shut in and warm garage. Its paint gleamed with the faint natural light in the garage. What kind of a man it took to build _that_...it certainly didn't seem like a mortal task. More a task for someone insane, obsessed...a demon possessed with tireless intellect. Tedious a task to make something so sleek that ran as good as it looked. If bats out of hell could fly so fast as that car could move they'd scream as loud as it could too. Its creator would fit in nicely at their garage. Though, no matter how 'batty' the making of that machine was, this Lamborghini sure wasn't begging to be driven in a whipping snow storm even with good tires. Nnoitora looked back at Grimmjow who seemed a little interested to know why this lanky fellow was staring at his car in this thoughtful sort of way. "Didn' ya say ya 'ad ta work today? How ya gon' git there, ta the club?"

 

            Like that was the most stupid question he'd ever heard and to tease Nnoitora, Grimmjow cocked up a very obvious brow. "I plan to drive."

 

            "Fuck ya. I mean nah in _tha'_ car righ'? Ichi's is all finished up, maybe ya should borrow his, it would handle better an' ya know it. 'Sides, I though' ya were quittin' tha' club place. Not yet?"

 

            Grimm’s arms crossed in front of his chest. "Soon as I can I will. I do have an 'at will' employment contract."

 

            The lanky man's eyes narrowed and he leaned on the nearest object, happening to be a cement post beside the garage's normal door. "Ya know Starrk will prolly hire ya righ' on the spot so ya won' 'ave a jobless gap."

 

            "And work my way into fulltime."

 

            "No," Nnoitora corrected flatly. "We've got a few morons we could afford ta loose an' ya come recommended as a hard, experienced worker from me so if ya wan' a fulltime space I'll make sure ya git it righ' away. Jus' don' blab 'bout it ta any'a the other guys, kay? If ya wan' the fulltime..."

 

            Grimmjow felt his posture stiffen a little, "Why does it sound like you're not sure that I want a fulltime position?"

 

            More insightful into big life changes like Grimmjow was going through than he'd let on, Nnoitora shrugged before answering in a casual way. "'Cuz ya _canno'_ kid me or yerself tha' ya like dancin' the pole. Maybe not the sick-o's tha' come ta watch ya, but I'd seen ya around before Ichi came along."

 

            "And..?"

 

            "And ya were really passionate 'bout the dancin' and seduction thing. If I didn' like breasts slightly more I'd 'ave paid ya ta shake yer pretty ass over my lap a time or two. In my weird way I'm sayin' yer sexy an' ya genuinely seemed ta like doin' yer dancin'." Nnoitora noticed Grimmjow's expression ease in the dim light, he wasn't wrong. "But then Ichi came along an' ya pretty much 'ave started totally devotin' yer life ta 'im..." The lanky man paused again to read the blue haired man’s expression as it changed again. Grimmjow didn't look him in the eye but got some warm sort of smile. "See? Ya fuckin' love 'im, an' he loves _you_. If yer life's gonna need room fer more'a wha' ya actually like doin' an' wha' Ichigo likes yer not gonna wanna git tha' fulltime job yet ‘cause yer gonna need time to settle inta life. There are other clubs fer strippers ta work at prolly. Part-time 'ere an' part-time there works if tha's wha' ya discover ya wan'. Starrk’d bend over backward fer a mechanic like ya. Ya got funds saved up fer whatever transition ya choose, yeah?"

 

            Grimmjow laughed, passively looking at the snow through the small windows on the bay doors over their heads. "Sort of... Some of it's wrapped up in what my parents left behind. Pops of mine is dead and my ma's in an asylum."

 

            Nnoitora shifted a little, nervous by that answer. "An asylum for _wha'_?"

 

            "The insane, stupid."

 

            Nnoitora scoffed, "Ain't stupid. Jus' askin' yer mysterious ass a question. Can I pry more?"

 

            Grimmjow licked his lips and leaned on the wall by the nearest bay door. If he didn't like Nnoitora as much as he already did he wouldn't have said, "Sure." Nnoitora seemed hesitant to start his first question, "Ya wanna know why she's nuts?"

 

            "Yeah. Tha's it. Didn' wan' it ta sound insensitive."

 

            "Somethin' about my pops drove her that way." Grimmjow tipped a thumb toward the Lamborghini, "That car was hers before she met him. She had a lot of money."

 

            "Think 'e married her fer tha'?"

 

            Grimmjow shrugged, a vague and unhelpful answer.

 

            "So wha' the hell'd she do tha' was bad 'nough ta indicate tha' she needed ta be committed ta an asylum anyway?" The lanky man wanted a direct answer.

 

            Grimmjow obliged with a sigh and carefully spoken words. "When I was little she tried to drown me. Somethin' about 'saving my soul'." There was a profound minute of silence in the dark space of the garage where Grimm didn't look at Nnoitora and all Nnoitora could do was stare at the other man.

 

            The way Grimmjow said that made the lanky fellow across from him shudder. "Are ya fuckin' _serious_?" He leaned forward a little while asking, a part of him hoping it was a really awful joke to lighten the mood - which it hadn't if it was meant to.

 

            About this matter of fact Grimmjow seemed very composed. He was calm and not swayed by emotion as he mentioned it or after. This was a man who had come to terms with it many years ago. "Dead serious. She's in an asylum for the insane because she went _that_ crazy. I'm sure she loved me in her backward way but ya know...tryin' to save your kid's soul by drowning them ain't it."

 

            "Goddamn Grimm..." Nnoitora sighed and rested on the pole again. "Grim life fer a Grimm man?"

 

            Grimmjow, broken away from the bad memory of his mother, laughed at Nnoitora. "Whatever..! My life's pretty good I'd like to think."

 

            Nnoitora began to wander back to the office, "Yeah, yeah. Yer right. Sorry fella, tha' was jus' a really bad bit'a history." He knelt to open the fridge under the main paperwork desk. Just about then something happened. A flinch passed mutually between them as Nnoitora's cell-phone started to buzz in his pocket, knocking against his keys and coins. The lanky man closed the fridge, no beer in hand yet and looked at the screen before picking up the call. "Hey toots. Ya callin' 'cause the power's out and ya can't charge tha' vibrator? I can’t help ya while I’m at work ya know…"

 

            Through the phone speaker he'd hear Nelliel pipe up immediately. "Ew, no! How rude."

 

            "I meant yer phone. It vibrates too righ'?" The woman on the other end of the call could probably hear Grimmjow's laugher as he couldn't help hearing Nnoitora joking in the otherwise dead-silent garage. Nnoitora hadn't exactly said it quietly either.

 

            "Dirty... Well I suppose you earned that joke. I am calling because the power is out though. I can't remember what to unplug before the power comes back on," Nelliel was chattering.

 

            Nnoitora got comfortable on the floor right in front of the mini-fridge, this was going to take a bit of explaining. "Well the microwave to start with..."

 

            Out in the garage Grimmjow was doing his own thing, mentally preparing to drive to work. He sighed, looking back and forth at his and Ichigo's cars - drastic in differences. Today in the span of a few hours they had changed all of the fluids in Ichigo's Mazda6. Brakes, transmission, oil, even cleaned out the fuel lines and such. Grimmjow installed some brand-new tires and rims they'd run to get while the weather wasn't shit, and finally a full coat of wax over all of the red paint. It was an insane amount of work for the timeframe it had taken but between two mechanics working like well-oiled machines and better it was a fun challenge. Loading all of the stuff he figured he would need from the Lamborghini, a bag and some miscellaneous items, into Ichigo's Mazda Grimmjow whistled sharply at the man in the office who was probably still teasing his girlfriend. "I'm headin' out before I'm late because of this storm." Not too many minutes later Nnoitora headed over to help and had raised the bay door for the other man to get his lover’s car outside. Grimmjow swore he'd be so careful with Ichigo's car, _so_ careful! Now Grimmjow was on his way. Out into the storm. The sky fallen snow.

 

            Fuck driving in this weather, he soon found out... Other people were in and out of their lanes. Traffic lights were all hard to read as snow plastered to them. A few hills were impossible to ascend. Parking in H.E.X.'s parking lot after an hour of this torture, Grimmjow was grateful to stop driving for once. Normally he sincerely loved to drive and didn't complain about traveling but today was just like Nnoitora had said: a 'no thank you'. The man's blue eyes turned up to the various neon signs of the club as he shut the Mazda6's engine off. How many people were going to show on a day like this was literally a _slim_ guess and definitely proven by the lesser amount of cars in the parking lot. Grimmjow grabbed his bag stuffed his miscellaneous things into it and opened the Mazda's door, holding it tight to make sure the wind didn't rip it out of his hand. All in a hurry among the whipping flurries Grimmjow collected himself, got out, shut the door, locked the car, and rushed in the front doors of the building. He didn't try to use the employees' side entrance to the building on days like this anymore. The gutter above it was broken and water dripped down as it gathered so on cold days it was usually frozen shut. The club's 'friendly' bouncers were right there at the doors to greet him, chuckling at the wind tossed and shivering man for his snow-blow and haphazard appearance as he passed.

 

            Without a word to either man Grimmjow walked straight in. As it typically was, with music playing at a heart-sundering level and the only light through the main room coming from the strobes and strategically installed neon and white LED lights, H.E.X. was functioning like there was nothing unusual going on outside. _'This is just unnecessary...'_ he thought. The world could be burning and they'd still be dancing. A burning room he'd only want to be in if Ichigo was there too. In here only one or two customers were up close watching women dance at the poles on the ends of their lit catwalks. That was it. Maybe he could handle a slow day like this, feel better about it than dancing for a huge crowd. On his way to the dressing room Grimmjow sought out who was keeping bar for the morning because that made or broke his opportunity to have a drink or two. Klayton's smiling face didn't take long to find. The long haired redhead was the only one behind or anywhere near the bar and that probably bored the poor socially inclined man to tears.

 

            Very friendly per the usual, as soon as he noticed the familiar dancer Klayton waved at Grimmjow as he passed by the bar. The redhead's happy face was lit up warmly by the lights in and around the otherwise atmospherically shady bar. In a way it was cozy. "Rain or hail..." Klayton was in the mood to tease, because Grimmjow always managed to get to work despite the weather...and was surprisingly punctual about it.

 

            "Ya forgot volcanic eruptions and earthquakes." The exotic man was walking fast to get back to the dressing room but turned as Klayton spoke up at a moderate volume to carry over the booming music playing on the surrounding speakers.

 

            "Don't bother Szayel in his office. He's doing something."

 

            "Okay..." Grimmjow called back with a weird sort of wonder as to why he wasn't supposed to tell pinkie he was here. It was kind of important that Szayel knew where he was but oh well. He'd wait. Regarding Klayton's tips and advice usually paid off.

 

            It was evident very quickly the amount of other dancers and staff that had just not made it in today. Only three or four people were back in the dressing room; these weren't people he knew well either. Szayel usually scheduled twenty entertainers at the minimum. This was a meager fourth. Not being crowded for space for a change was pleasant though. The blue haired man secured his stuff in his locker as well as stripped down to his skin. Walking into the men's showers he found one more guy just enjoying the heated water and steam. It was evident by shining tiles and gleaming fixtures that these had been cleaned top to bottom just the other day, how nice. In a slight rush to get his routine over with Grimmjow was in and out before the other man had even tried to make conversation. Damn had that warm water been nice. Now Grimm felt lighter on his feet, warmed, perfectly shaven and clean. After revisiting his locker he went to the unoccupied vanity station out in the main dressing room with his makeup while wiping himself dry with a fluffy towel while he walked.

 

            The handful of other entertainers noticed him standing naked in front of the mirrors and working with the towel after setting his makeup down and they started to chatter more.

 

            Grimmjow could tell by their reflections that they kept looking at him. Perhaps it couldn't be helped; he was a known figure here even if he didn't know them. He allowed himself to wonder what they were saying. Maybe it was about his boldness, standing naked in the open and rather empty dressing room. Maybe his scars... Maybe his attractive physique, slabs of muscle layering on his body tightly and a healthy flaccid cock at his groin... Rumors and gossip. Or maybe even just the fact that he was one of the big earners for the club in general. It could be a lot of things, but Grimmjow didn't let the chatter irritate him, he just finished drying off and started outlining his eyes with a dark eyeliner pencil. Leaning in toward the mirror he got to study his face as he worked on making it up. No wrinkles. Nothing like that to show much of his age. Grimmjow stopped after he'd done the man-liner and his eye-shadow and just stared into his own eyes in the mirror, feeling a little strange.

 

            Crystal blues of a sky's color on a beautiful day fell into the mirror and then back at himself in the reflection. They radiated the light of a sky. A curiosity...were his eyes always so intense? With all the dark makeup on they were almost of a glowing type and popped forward from his facial features. Looking down a moment, Grimm fingered across the scars on the front of his body as they began to ache a little…those bite marks and bullet holes. He was almost thirty years old and these were the only imperfect parts on him. At least they were healing so well... Even the scar on his half-shaved head was disappearing finally. It just seemed bizarre.

 

            Gazing again into the boundless blue sky of his eyes...Skiy. Why he'd been called that. Of course he'd been named for all of the blue in his looks, an unusual color....his superficial self...but he wondered just how close to the blue sky he might really be… How close? In his own gaze he felt breathless watching and absorbed and warm, like the sun was shining on him...but the blues refreshed him like breezes sweeping in with cool air. He felt transported...into an Eden. There was no world around him now, only endless skies. Between the dark black and smoky frame of makeup his eyes radiated greater light. There was a gravity pulling his focus... Pulling him...folding him...really transporting him- Grimmjow's head rolled back and his senses made him feel like he was spinning. There was a perfect sky and clouds above him and then...

 

            ...nothing.


	45. Lorn Angel - Forgive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: violence (specifically related to a school threat - if you’re sensitive to this theme you should not read this), terror, mentions of sex

**Chapter Forty-Five**

_“Lorn Angel - Forgive”_

 

 

            A shocked Szayel lost grip on the clipboard anchored in his hands. The clothing on top of it and the makeup cradled in the materials' folds on top of that all fell. Crashed to the ground. "Skiy!" The handful of entertainers in the dressing room rose from their places, all of them, for a better vantage point. Maybe some stared with concern, maybe some with apathetic contempt. After all, Grimmjow was the top of the food chain here and they...were not. "Skiy!" The lot of them still moved toward the fallen man to see; he was unconscious on the polished floor in front of the dressing room's vanity. Kneeling at the fallen dancer's level Szayel immediately started dictating. "Get Klayton back here NOW!" A woman in a see-through gown jogged off to get the bartender. Minutes passed in large sums and for nothing that they tried would Grimmjow wake up. "He's still breathing but only a little...where is Klayton?!" Eventually Klayton turned up, needing to leave the woman who had told him about this watching the bar, but he was as ill-equipped to help as Szayel. Grimmjow's sorry head slumped side to side when shaken and his body hung like a leaden weight as he was gently moved, eyes shut and not reacting but breathing so shallow it was almost absent. The handsome dancer was much like a dishrag cast onto the floor by some fate or for some reason he couldn't control. Klayton watched his friend with concerned and compassionate attentiveness and Szayel tried to scheme up what they could possibly do about this... Professional medical assistance was very likely necessary, but in this spontaneous wintery blizzard could help even make it if needed? At least nothing lousy and malicious would harm Grimmjow while Klayton, selfless and genuine, was watching out for him.

 

~

 

_[Meanwhile, unpleasant things transpire at Karakura town’s high school over the course of a few hours...]_

            Shivering solitary in an outdoor sports equipment shed after fleeing his _own_ school, a certain tangerine haired teenager was questioning why terrifying shit always needed to happen around him.

 

            Some hours ago Ichigo had been on his way through the bleak halls of his high school to visit the main office as instructed; whatever the purpose was Ichigo didn't know exactly because he hadn't gotten as far as the office before an incident! At a point before reaching the main office three strange men in the high school’s main ground hallway had stood in his path and then attempted to restrain him. Forceful grabbing hands and swiping limbs, Ichigo resisted them immediately. These men looked like secret service members superficially but could have as easily been criminals in suits. The young man was no fool. They had _no_ badges to show and hats with rims that concealed their faces as well as horrible manners and they _did not_ proclaim themselves openly as police. Even if they had tried to claim that they were police or government men Ichigo was too put-off by their spontaneous and suspicious gestures and appearances to actually believe that. This kid wasn’t dumb. He didn’t know why things were happening but he wasn’t just going to wait dumbly and let himself be dragged into a bad situation as he might be. Ichigo was knowing of the importance of defending himself and had long since sluffed off his child-like passivity.

 

            Thankfully the cornering had gone very badly anyway because Ichigo was young and very spry. In his rushed measures to escape Ichigo came by the hallway’s doors after dodging grabbing hands and discovered that every classroom door which he tried to open in this hallway was locked... When he called for help no one answered... When he evaded the men trying to take him down they only tried harder...and as they had him in a small space Ichigo barely fended them off. He was determined but not strong enough to brawl so he didn’t try to hurt them. Without any help and running out of options and space to back up in the hallway Ichigo ran to the end of the hall and shoved open the door at its end which wasn’t locked like the classrooms… The winter air of outside’s wild weather _blasted_ him head-on and he felt like it had partially frozen him over instantaneously…but Ichigo slammed the door shut and held it closed. Unable to properly lock the door from the outside he jammed a stray stone into the handle to keep it from opening easily. The men shook the door furiously trying to make their way out after him and, shakily breathing puffs of air, Ichigo backpedaled away from it with wide eyes. He was determined to defend himself but he was also afraid. He had no clue why these men would be after him and it was terrifying that they were in his school of all places, but at least he knew not to let the fear immobilize him.

 

            The weather outside was still terrible. The blizzard snow from the sky partially melted against the young flesh of his exposed face, arms, and hands as it stacked. The white flecks swirled around his lonely form as he backed away from the door and looked up at his school building. Some of the classroom lights were still on but no one was at the snow pelted windows looking out. There was no chance that anyone was going to notice him out here in a blizzard. Ichigo was on his own.

 

            Turning toward the space of the schoolyard with a wide panning stare Ichigo wondered where he could go. He could barely see ten feet in front of himself. It was _freezing_ out here. He had no coat. No car. No cellphone. No idea where to go yet. The snow was only starting to stack up on him and stick to his clothes. He had to hide at least… Erratic hard breaths huffed up in front of his face as the snow blustered against the young man as he started to trudge away from the jammed door. More snow would come down. Frigid. Cold. Unyielding. As it somewhat melted against his face the icy water ran down his neck. Still he walked through the cold wind that blew gusts of it against him, seeking a place to hide. The temperature of the weather shot straight through his uniform effecting his body even though it was covered. If hell was frozen over…it looked like this stormy day.

 

            Ichigo coughed and shivered, holding his arms around his torso and his bare hands under his arms. Now he was a little desperate, walking through the unusually early winter weather and following the edge of the school building toward the back of the campus where the track and sports areas were. After only minutes Ichigo’s legs didn’t want to move much because his school slack’s material had absorbed the cold and acted like icepacks tied to either leg and his hips…but he forced them to move. Getting along, he was walking through snow that was calf-high, but his school shoes were soaked and freezing his feet… His hands and arms barely had any feeling. His face and head hurt, aching from the excessively low temperature. Having all of the space he could want to stumble around in right now was starting to look bleak in terms of finding a proper hiding place, but being in the middle of a mighty snowstorm was dangerous. Shelter. Shelter and a safe place to hide were what he needed. The clouds that cluttered the sky producing the snowfall and the snow itself was admittedly so dense that he couldn’t even see up into the sky. It was light outside but the sun was gone…

 

            A shivering Ichigo stumbled over hidden objects in the piled snow’s depths. If only a few minutes outside would freeze him this much then he had to find a place quickly or else…and those legitimately dangerous men would soon have that door open. Fortunately it was hard to see out here and the wind whipped the surface of the snow around so his tracks would be covered. They might not find him immediately but that didn’t mean they couldn’t eventually. At the sports areas in back of the school campus Ichigo found good shelter and hiding spot, an equipment shed. The metallic shed door was a little frozen and he had to kick away some snow and ice but he got inside and out of the storm’s wind – which was much of the cause of the cold as windchill factor. He stayed here for warmth and out of fear. Demons were lurking out there in the snow.

 

 

            So that was that... Now Ichigo had been hiding in the shed for a while. A few tears of worry and stress had frozen to his face and shattered when he tried to rub them off. There was nothing more he felt he could do about his situation. Now here Ichigo sat, or _crouched_...because the ground was too cold to sit on the floor of this stinking supply shed. Scared as hell and very much freezing his ass off, he’d been in this one place for _hours_. Progressively the young man was growing testy, despairing and hungry as the wonderful breakfast prepared for him earlier wasn’t enough for a whole day’s energy but neither of those discomforts outweighed his fear of those men finding him. This spot was a lack of options at best and by noises outside and the really poor weather it would be a waiting game…if they found him…if he froze to death…or if someone helped him. This shed’s shelter was at least better than nothing; Ichigo had to force that into the forefront of his mind. He was grateful that the sports teams had been careless enough to leave it unlocked.

 

            As he shivered and rocked back and forth on his feet in a crouch, trying to preserve his body’s heat, something still bothered Ichigo. Why had no one come to see what he was yelling for in the school hallway? He’d bellowed for help. Why were all of the doors in that hallway locked up? Was it connected to why he'd been called down to the office so randomly? There was something that he _hadn't_ been told. This whole situation stank of illegitimate coincidences. He doubted that his teacher Misato was aware either…but she could be… Who was after him?! And why?! He’d done nothing wrong! Frustrated and worried Ichigo set his head against his folded arms on top of his knees and his tangerine hair ruffled over them as his weight pressed down. The depressing shadows of the dark shed suited his mood. What was even going on right now? Had he really woken up this morning or was this all some kind of a dream? A really vivid nightmare.

 

            Soon, minutes later, the bell marking the near end of the school day resounded through the yards outside of the building muffled some because of the densely snowy weather. Ichigo’s posture didn’t shift or change and he gave a little shudder. He had heard the bell. Was it safe to come out now? Should he be worried that no one would be left to help him if the school day finished and everyone went home? Had there been an evacuation and he was already alone? He had so many questions that he didn’t have even a good guess toward. On a basic level of understanding, Ichigo figured that it was just way too freezing and dangerous to leave here and try to get answers right now. You were supposed to hide in the case of intruders, and stay hidden. You were also supposed to seek shelter quickly and preserve your body heat in the event of a bad winter storm. He was doing both. They were hard-fast survival guidelines for a reason. So he would have to wait for how much longer..? Would the snow pile up so high that he couldn’t even open the shed’s door to get out? Could he actually freeze to death in here? Was anyone looking for him? Should he have tried to leave before now and just faced the danger? No, no, no. He _shouldn’t_ go outside. Doubts filled the young man’s mind’s glass to overflowing. The small equipment shed creaked. Thick snow coming down which Ichigo could see through a very tiny window very near the ceiling of the shed was certainly piling up as he waited. More doubt about being able to escape was poured into his mind. Was hiding in this specific case a lethal mistake?

 

            With fear, despair and doubt as his shadows the teenager soon began to miss Grimmjow, his lover and someone who consistently made him feel safe. Grimm would probably be shocked to hear about this crap. The first thing he swore to do when he saw Grimmjow again was to spend the entire rest of the day with him, appreciating their time together. Ichigo was mature enough to want something as such for such a reason. He felt he'd be lucky to ever see Grimmjow again though. Was his situation hiding in this shed from enemies and the weather really so grave as his instincts and common sense dictated? Or was he just jaded by excessive fear? He wanted to get out of this terrifying situation alive…

 

            The shed was quiet except for Ichigo’s breathing and the bluster against its creaking walls from outer wind. Gloves, mats, plates, nets, balls, rackets, and a host of other sports equipment were at his disposal if he needed them. There were no blankets or gear covering enough to keep him warm though. Ichigo had checked. After checking he went back into his crouch. It was getting so cold in here! While hugging his legs in his crouched huddle and trying to reassure himself that he would get out of this situation alive Ichigo heard a bang or a clatter outside of the shed and visibly jumped, almost out of his skin, holding his breath for a few seconds after. Come to think of it…if these men were recognized as intruders to the school this shit would probably surface on the news. The stations seemed to love to broadcast this kind of coverage, with a sick obsession for the morbid and terrible events of the town and city nearby. He didn't want to be the missing person on that evening news report... Releasing his breath in a puffy plume of hot air Ichigo shifted and leaned against the rack of equipment he was nearest to because his legs were giving out. Snow and wind continued to hit at the thin walls of the shed. Damnit, who was out there?!

 

            In the space of ten minutes more of waiting nothing actually happened to him...and Ichigo’s tired legs had let his rump hit the chilly ground because his body just wouldn’t hold him up like it had been anymore, even with something to lean on. The young man had relaxed just a little bit because nothing seemed like it was going to barge into the shed and attack him despite that loud noise of earlier. Being still in this one place he was getting sleepy...starting to doze...ready to just curl up and wait for spring like a dormant flower.

 

            Being in the same spot for many hours...what was ten minutes more?

 

            In actuality…

 

            A speck.

 

            Just a dot of time.

 

            All at once Ichigo was shocked from that gentle dozing by scraping at the shed's door. Alarmed at once all over again when he realized what was happening Ichigo hauled himself to his feet to defend himself. Hands went back fumbling and gripped a tennis racket, he held it shaking in front of himself, eyes fixed on the door. His breathing quickened and he could distinctly feel his pulse in his head, half-frozen hands, and frigidly cold feet. The door was heaved open enough for the person to get into the shed. Upon seeing another person in a school uniform Ichigo exhaled all of his breath and whimpered. There was someone… He was relieved. He felt he might cry for an instant. His hope here wasn’t false.

 

            Ichigo recognized them quickly, in dim lighting and all, and put the tennis racket back on the rickety equipment shelf. This wasn't the most welcomed person but... _Renji_ was probably not here to hurt him. "F-Fuck you scared me. Hi..." the orange haired teen said weakly. Ichigo leaned back on the shelves while the redhead slid the stubborn door shut again and himself shivered from the cold. The stormy gales of the blizzard from outside were blocked from intrusion into the smallish shed with the door shut but it was still really cold. For Ichigo it was a small glimmer of hope that Renji had been able to open the shed in that he knew now that the snow wasn’t piled up so high that he would be stuck.

 

            "Hi." Renji's reply to the greeting came back as strangely short, and then he shrugged awkwardly, eyeing Ichigo across from him. It wasn't just Renji who struggled to find an appropriate greeting. They were on awkward terms as it was…but physically speaking Ichigo didn’t look so good…and that kind of took some of the blame for cutting his greeting down to size.

 

            "Why're you out here?" Ichigo found it easier to be right to the point.

 

            "I uh...I saw you run _here_...f-from our classroom window earlier and when you didn't come back after a while I just made an excuse to get out of class to find out why."

 

            "So you're just snooping on me?" Ichigo didn’t find that answer as genuine as it was meant to be. He was starting to become worried about Renji being the one to have found him.

 

            "Don't be like that. We used to be good to each other." Renji was in no mood for a fight. He was just trying to help.

 

            Since Ichigo had justified foundation for doubt it was hard to see past that to the fact that Renji was probably just here to help, even in such a desperate situation. Sensibly, Ichigo wouldn’t just cleave to anyone as his savior. "We'd still be good if you weren't such an asshole."

 

            Renji piped up to defend himself, "I'm _not_ an asshole. You’re the one being-"

 

            Their conversation was quickly devolving into a petty fight anyway. This heated topic was too easily charging the orange haired young man up with the last reserves of his energy. In a different sense of self-defense Ichigo let Renji have it… "So you didn't mean to be an asshole and by debasing me after we broke up wherein you told a lot of people untrue things about me, then started ignoring me, and a short while ago picking a fight with the first person you saw me getting close to after the fact? Calling him a manwhore, me a whore, and trying and humiliate us both in front of a ton of our classmates seemed pretty intentional. I'm more than a _hundred_ percent sure that you did mean to do those things." It sort of all came out at once…

 

            "Geeze, _I'm sorry!_ " Renji's face and tone at least sounded remorseful, "I just wanted-"

 

            "What you _are_ is _jealous_. Don't soft-soap me with ‘sorry’." Maybe Ichigo was being bold because he realized that he could walk out of the shed at any time, not that it was a smart idea to do so, but he could. It was either that or just a ravenously defensive emotional response to Renji catching him at an off moment. His situation was most likely affecting his behavior. Ichigo was under plenty of stress and worry right now. It couldn’t be factored out. He really didn’t have to be trapped in here but Ichigo’s body made no moves toward the door.

 

            "Ichigo, relax. I'm not soft-soaping! I still hate the guy you're with but I don't have it out for you... I swear." A silent stare passed between either and Renji slid the tops of his chilled hands into his uniform pants' pockets. The redhead leaned on the shed door with a light creak and didn't say more so that Ichigo could get a word in. He really was ravenously jealous of Grimmjow for having a relationship with Ichigo, to himself he'd admitted that. He'd also had to admit to himself that Ichigo was still a special person to him and he wanted to fix their friendship at the least...even if it was just a small fix enough for them to talk. Renji didn’t have a lot of friends outside of their group and he’d cast himself out a while ago; he was lonely and remorseful. He also felt like he couldn’t go without interacting with Ichigo, who had once been his light in dark spaces, and hoped that they could have at least a friendship again where he would have to learn to cull his jealousy.

 

            Ichigo chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment; his stare forward was aggressive and upset. Why couldn’t Renji have just come in here and said: ‘I’m here to help, we can talk later.’ Probably for the same reason that Ichigo couldn’t stop himself from harping too… The rifting wounds between them had festered and were incredibly sensitive. And Ichigo’s feathers were already ruffled.

 

            Realizing that Ichigo wasn’t going to say anything else and would probably just keep staring harshly Renji spoke to the unhappy look that he was recipient to, "I'm...sorry! I'm just... _sorry_..." Along with an awkward expression and posture Renji's voice was different by how he said it this time. Embarrassed probably, which was a sign that he was being genuine.

 

            “For yourself!”

 

            “NO! I-” Renji protested but fell short when Ichigo’s stare more turned into a glare. He knew better than this denial. “I’m sorry that I messed up our relationship by being selfish! Maybe for myself but I’m sorry for messing with you too. I’m just out here to help you. I really didn’t mean to- I want to-“ He restarted his sentences a few times over, grasping at making sense.

 

            Ichigo eased his cross expression as Renji fumbled. For some reason he calmed down a little. “Just tell me the truth Renji. If you’re out here because you care tell me the _truth!_ ”

 

            Renji’s words all came out in an angry torrent, huge plumes of hot breath forming in front of his face. “I don’t want you to be with _him_ , I want you to be with _me_! I want to fuck you _NOT HIM FUCKING YOU!_ ” Renji pounded a fist against the shed and the wall rattled and the sound of snow sliding off of the roof and falling beside the same wall outside made a thud. “I hate _him!_ Not _you!_ You still matter to me!” The excessively tattooed redhead gritted his teeth. “This is all because I fucked up! I’m sorry for myself but I’m sorry that I didn’t do enough for you to keep you!”

 

            “Calm down Renji…” The truth didn’t fall on deaf ears, but Ichigo was nervous about what he’d started because it was making Renji angry enough to shout. Someone would hear them.

 

            With a pained huff of air and expression Renji stared in disbelief as his rage had boiled off, “You wanted the truth…”

 

            Ichigo knew that he was at fault for revving this sensitive situation up by being too hostile from the start. He was under pressure and had been too stressed out, but Renji’s earnest honesty sobered Ichigo up. The orange haired teenager swallowed, “Just…be calm and finish what you were saying. I’m listening.” He’d almost forgotten that he was half frozen by now, but it was no less a thing because of that forgetfulness. Their bodies were still being exposed to an unhealthy amount of cold air.

 

            Renji rubbed his lips together, the cold temperature was getting to him too. “I just…can’t be alone.” There was a long tense silence afterward for a minute. Neither of them knew what to say to the other. They both shivered in the cold of the dim shed. Renji couldn’t be any more earnest than he was.

 

            Ichigo couldn’t bring himself to be insensitive enough to just plainly say ‘I love someone else. I can’t be there for you like I used to.’ Along side that if Renji was around him more than likely the man who was a bane to Renji’s existence would be too. There would be no Ichigo without Grimmjow. They were glued soul to soul. “Renji…”

 

            Renji just lowered his head, with melting snow falling off of the hair over his tightly pulled ponytail, and continued his lean against the cold closed shed door. Remorsefully he shook his head side to side. Some of the snow fell off of his shoulders too and hit the floor of the shed with wet plops. “I’m just…so sorry…”

 

            It took a moderate breakdown of the other student to help Ichigo see that Renji’s sorries weren’t empty and that his former boyfriend was really upset with himself. What Renji was sorry for included the redhead himself but also apology for making them so unhappy that it had ruined their ability to be around each other period. Clearly Renji still needed him in some way. Ichigo was unhappy with the way he’d been treated but he wasn’t cold enough to ignore someone else’s needs. Ichigo swallowed and surmounted the situation with a tactful maturity once he’d realized… "Well you’re trying to fix it now. I forgive you."

 

            Looking up with wide eyes, Renji sure was stunned. "W-Wait... Really?"

 

            Ichigo was a little shocked because Renji seemed shocked. This whole snowball effect broke wide open. "Well yeah... It took you long enough." Looking much less agitated Ichigo watched the redhead. "Without all of the excuses you'd been lining up since day one of our breakup your apology certainly means more..."

 

            "O-Oh. Ok..."

 

            "And the hearing you tell me the truth about how you feel means something too. Just don't expect me to date you again. We're not really a match...if you know what I mean...but we can still talk." Ichigo waited for that hard statement to sink in.

 

            Renji shook his head, “I hate that, but I understand…” He was only upset, not unreasonable. Of course bummed out by the second half of what Ichigo had said but now plainly informed of that barrier Renji exhaled a cloud of heated breath and sighed. He was back to remembering the bite of the cold. "That's fine I guess. I-I mean I wish it wasn't that way but since you weren't happy with me-"

 

            "Renji, I just wanted to be on top sometimes. Don't think so low of yourself."

 

            The redhead silently took that into careful consideration.

 

            "I mean...you ditched class to check on me, right? So you've still got a heart in the right place. Our problems started over sexual positions, otherwise we would have been fine. We're just two dominant tops...and you really don't want to be on bottom ever so..." Ichigo lifted his shoulders in a friendly shrug, realizing now that he was grateful for the amount of space that Renji had given him this whole discussion long. About five feet apart. There was also a feeling of relief in him that this hadn't turned into excessive bickering. "...we can't ignore what we want."

 

            For Renji it had been difficult to stay by the door this whole time when he still had feelings which he was coming to terms with. Somehow he’d managed. "I hope you don't think that I think you're a whore...b-because, I don't think that at all! I-I just felt like-"

 

            Interrupting, Ichigo scoffed a little and shook his head, "Grimmjow took that word a bit far when he fought you over it. He’s a protective man. I had my worries a while ago about what you thought of me but I believe you now. Just don't indirectly call me a 'whore' again, ok? You both got hurt pretty bad in that fight."

 

            “I…really hurt him?” Renji’s reason for a questioning reaction was hazy.

 

            “Yeah. You cracked some of his ribs and a whole bunch of cuts and bruises. You both fucked each other up as far as I could tell.”

 

            Renji’s had a few fractures from the fight too but he didn’t mention them. He figured by the way Ichigo had deduced this that it was obvious enough. “Eh heh, well I don’t wanna fuck him so I’ll just leave the fucking in terms of him to you from now on then, huh?” Renji’s tone was jovial, he was joking around.

 

            The comment was followed up by a soft and short laugh from both of them.

 

            Like Ichigo, Renji had laughed a little but it was a short, nervous laugh. "I'm actually sorry about fighting him in front of you." Since it had been without consideration of Ichigo. So much apologizing. There was a minute of silence that passed between them as the young men exchanged a friendly and forgiving stare across their short distance apart. "I think my balls are frozen… It’s fucking miserable in here how have you been out here this long? And uuuh...why are you hiding out in a shed anyway? This isn't the front office at all."

 

            Of course it wasn't the office... Ichigo’s expression flattened comically. It was weird though, for five minutes Ichigo had totally forgotten about his danger. The orange haired student gained a tense sort of posture and shifted side to side to stir his bodily heat as he tried to imagine how to explain the bizarre situation he'd found himself in… "Someone in the school tried to handcuff and grab me as I was getting to the office. It wasn’t our police officer."

 

            "Who can do that?" Renji had a hard time believing something like that because it sounded so out of the blue.

 

            "I don't know who they are but they don't work in our school. They were too shifty. There's more than one, three people with hats and suits on."

 

            "So you hid here where they can still get you instead of running home?"

 

            Again the doubt of whether he'd made the right choice avoiding being buried in the storm while running around blind trying to find a way home poured into his mind’s glass too full. "I-It's like...twenty degrees [°F] in here Renji! Maybe ten out there if you ignore the wind and blinding snow. I would have loved to but you can barely see around yourself out there too! They chased me so I kind of had to get somewhere safe pretty fast," Ichigo faintly sounded like he was snapping, he was being fairly defensive in his distress.

 

            "Hey... I'm not trying to burn you. The weather _is_ nasty. I barely got here. You could probably walk with me for safety, but there was no one out there when I came this way."

 

            “How did you get out of the school..?” Ichigo looked worried.

 

            “I went out through the gym. There are never any teachers watching those back doors. They’re idiots.” So Renji had exited way far from the sketchy men.

 

            “Ah…” That was how a lot of students snuck out of the building, for years or at least since they’d been attending, and the teachers hadn’t seemed to have caught on yet. All of the school’s doors always opened from the inside but not the outside unless they were the ones in front or you had a key. “Well we can’t get back in that way I guess…”

 

            “Hell, why would you wanna go back in there based on what you just said anyway?” Renji had a solid point.

 

            “Well it’s warmer and I wouldn’t get hypothermia inside…but you’re probably right.” It was only the fact that Ichigo had been careful and sheltered that had prevented him from getting severe hypothermia, but he did have a mild case of it that he wasn’t aware of yet. It would get worse if he didn’t get warm.

 

            Renji wasn’t much better off, he had the same uniform on and no coat or sweater, but he hadn’t been out in the cold for the hours that Ichigo had. "Of course I’m right… Err… So Grimmjow isn't picking you up today?" The redhead asked such a question very flatly as if mocking the man for being an irresponsible partner if he wasn’t.

 

            Ichigo judged the way Renji asked and decided it was fine to give a normal response. He couldn’t erase Renji’s hate for Grimm, but he could treat Renji like a human and hope that the humanity would rub off on the redhead. "Actually he had to work today. I was planning to walk or catch a ride with someone else."

 

            "I texted my friends from another school when I noticed the snow kicking up. They have a reliable ride so I can save you a seat in our car if you want it. It's a four-wheel drive so they'll get here for sure and I'd just have to tell them to come by early. Call this an extra part of my apology. Nothing weird attached at all, I promise. Just a ride home." Renji lifted an honest hand as a simple gesture and stood up straight.

 

            Though this was awkward, in all of his time with the redhead Ichigo had no reason to think that Renji was a liar in dire circumstances. Ichigo trusted the nice gesture and offer of help. "Ok then. I'd be fine riding with you guys."

 

            "Cool. You should probably come into the school with me anyway even if it is stupid so that we don’t freeze. I’d rather get fondled by weird guys than get hypo-whatever, and I do have to get my cell out of my locker. I’ll just protect you if they’re still in there." He noticed Ichigo's face become nervous again. "Or not..."

 

            "Yeah, no thanks. I'll wait here." Ichigo swallowed a lump in his throat saying something like that but Renji promising to protect him was no more reassuring than Grimmjow doing it in a hopeless situation. He trusted them both but there was only so much anyone could realistically do to protect another person when outnumbered. The things that had happened to him and Grimmjow before also made it nearly impossible for Ichigo to ignore his fear of falling into deeper kinds of trouble. Even if, as Renji had so eloquently phrased it: his balls were frozen. And they were fucking cold. Discomfort had to be weighed against safety though. Much more of Ichigo felt frozen too so it wasn’t a decision made lightly. Slowly it was becoming a realization that he already had hypothermia. He felt something awful for leaving Renji to go alone and tried to discourage him, “Fuck that phone though.”

 

            "It's cool if you don’t go, but I need it. Other than this shed being so freezing that my nads are going to fall off I guess if you've been here for hours. It's probably safe as anywhere. I'll run to the front and tell the staff in the main office that we saw weird people here."

 

            "Well...I was called to the office and these guys stopped me from getting there so you should probably stay clear of there. How are you even going to get back in?"

 

            “That’s what he said,” Renji winked. “Lube.”

 

            “Renji!” Ichigo barked with an embarrassed and irritated blush. For a moment, again, he forgot that he was cold. “You better cut that out.”

 

            “It’s just one dirty joke!”

 

            “This situation isn’t funny! And don’t flirt with me…”

 

            “Fine… I put a softball in the gym doors so that they wouldn’t close. Otherwise I’ll bet that someone has a window unlocked somewhere.”

 

            Well that was a sound method. "Just...call the police right away, ok?"

 

            "I can do that for sure." The redhead turned around and put his hand on the shed’s doorlatch.

 

            All at once he realized he had somethings else to ask. Ichigo stopped Renji from opening up the shed door with a few words more, "Hold on Renji." The orange haired young man froze up a little as attention came to him. “Is school still going on like normal?”

 

            “As far as I know. Yeah. Your whole class went to the cinematic room for the rest of the day to watch the movie because the projector in the classroom overheated. I left from there and everyone was still in the classrooms and stuff that I passed."

 

            “Oh…” So the school wasn’t on lockdown. Renji wouldn’t necessarily be walking alone in halls… "If…if you can…bring my stuff too? Just what's in my locker. It's right near yours, 242 on the same wall and my combination that I told you hasn’t changed.”

 

            “What if I don’t remember it?”

 

            Ichigo narrowed his eyes in comical fashion. “You do… It’s how you opened it and stuck pictures of guys blowing each other with ‘you suck’ written on them all over my stuff not so long ago.”

 

            “Ooooh right…” Renji remembered his crude prank.

 

            Ichigo shook his head, he’d rather not remember that. “Anyway… My jacket and a couple of black folders of notes are in there. It’s some stuff I need tonight for exam studies." Now this was a little selfish to request.

 

            Renji squinted at Ichigo. "I guess I can, it’s not really out of my way…"

 

            "Thanks. Only get my stuff if you think it’s safe though!" Ichigo rushed to say, feeling a little guilty for asking someone to do something for him that he deemed too dangerous to do himself. He stalled Renji again, "Hey… W-Why were you in my class today anyway?"

 

            Renji blinked at being stalled more, "I opted to watch that movie and do a report for extra credit. I'm close to failing this year you know... Even if I do well on the final exams I’m still probably not going to have enough credits to graduate. It’s whatever though… I could honestly probably swipe your schoolbag from homeroom if you wanted it too. So, should I?"

 

            "No...ah... That’s way too risky. I'll definitely be fine without the rest of my books for a day, thanks. I just think you should be fast incase those guys are trying to hurt students."

 

            "We'd be on lockdown idiot..."

 

            "Don't call me that you _jerk_... Maybe they’re being really sneaky and haven’t been noticed yet." In a way Ichigo was still stalling Renji because he didn’t want to send him in there. Lord knew why Ichigo didn’t just say ‘don’t go’.

 

            "Sheesh. I’ll be fine. I have a knife in my pocket, I’m pretty good at running, and I’m strong to boot. I’ll be able to get away if anything does happen. And thanks for letting me talk to you," the redhead mentioned over his shoulder. It meant a lot. “I still have a thing for you, but I’ll try to keep to myself.”

 

            “I appreciate it.”

 

            Renji started to move the shed door to let himself out. The freezing blizzard wind blew inward and flecks of snow rushed through the gap with the door ajar.

 

            At least compassionately, Ichigo gave him a warm smile and nodded, shivering a little until the shed door shut again and Renji was outside. Holy shit it was colder than he'd thought out there…or he was just more sensitive to the cold now… It burned a little, oddly enough. Renji's person was out of sight and Ichigo’s inspired energy was quickly gone, he dropped his ass to the floor and huffed a tense sigh out of his chest.

 

            All of his limbs were heavy… Ichigo realized that he would have been too weak to really keep up with Renji anyway. It was probably for the best that Renji was alone. Harder to notice and faster. Staying behind was still a difficult discussion to have made though… Ichigo’s weakened body shivered and burned a bit. He could feel his sweat freezing. To dwell on some positive things he thought about the interaction he’d just had. It was a decent one. Renji hadn't tried to hug or kiss him to apologize so that was good. The redhead seemed to accept that they wouldn’t be lovers again and that he didn’t have to be alone. With eyes closed and head on his arms as his legs came up close to his chest like they were before Ichigo was trying to preserve his remaining body heat and trying not to let his mind slip until he heard two loud cracks that echoed outside of the shed. Immediate alarm took him again. Holding his breath and back on his feet in a second his cold legs shook. He listened carefully… Hearing nothing more Ichigo leaned back against the rickety shelves of sports equipment his breath coming back went shaky with fright. What was that?! It was almost worse hearing nothing than something.

 

            With a hard swallow Ichigo collected his nerve as there was a period of abnormal silence and went slowly toward to the shed's door. He waited and no more sounds. Should he…open the door? The young man placed his hands carefully on the frigidly cold latch and pushed down as he carefully slid it open just a crack. It took effort to open it even that much and Ichigo squinted at the snow and wind to see beyond. Had a tree branch broken and hit something? Part of the sport teams’ outdoor equipment could have fallen over and knocked against something. Maybe a powerline had snapped.

 

            A tempest of snow couldn’t hide all things. The ground’s snow ahead of the shed held something that had left an imprint in it, the colors and shadows Ichigo could see. Red hair stuck up in a tail from the head of the object. Ichigo felt himself go ridged with fear. Collapsed in the snow a few yards in front of the shed was the face-down body of Renji... Helpless and unmoving.

 

            What Ichigo couldn’t have seen was that the other student been shot. There was excess red on the white snow other than his long hair being stuck up in the lively shock of its ponytail. The blood was so hot though that it sunk into the snow as it melted it and couldn’t be seen as easily as the indentation of a whole body in the snow. The wind carried away any scent of blood.

 

            Being nothing but paralyzed right now Ichigo's whole body buckled. Renji… Renji was…suffering there alone. Those _monsters_ were still out there and they’d done something to his friend! In that frozen moment someone jumped in front of the cracked open shed door and immediately Ichigo slammed it shut in a shock of fright. Holding the door shut wasn't easy and he was already weak. They’d found him? It was probably them… Trying not to hyperventilate Ichigo silently prayed to anyone who was listening. This was the worst nightmare but he had something better to worry about than just being afraid. _'...give me courage to go and get him...'_ He couldn't abandon Renji but he was at an impasse. Even weakened Ichigo became resolute, with a steely urge to protect his not forlorn friend he would find a way.


	46. Lorn Angel - Fester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: mentions violence (specifically related to a school threat - if you’re sensitive to this theme you should not read this), PURE EVIL

**Chapter Forty-Six**

_“Lorn Angel - Fester”_

 

 

_[Earlier the same morning before Ichigo's school incident...]_

            Three men baring guns relaxed were traveling to Karakura High School comfortably in the back of a black and unlicensed town car to carry out a dark mission. These were the favored employees of a rich and selfish man.

 

            A dark skinned fellow donning a sharp pair of sunglasses sat calmly and passively watched his associates across the car. A dark hat rested on one of his knees neatly. He was fully aware, as were they all, of the nature of this vile errand that they were on and that they would bring anguish and doom. He was the calmest and most staunch about the matter.

 

            A pale man sat back in his authentic leather seat, another of the three associates, relaxed and fingered his pistol. He was the most eager but did not let it show if he could help it. This new gun was unregistered and had never been fired before. It had taken him several tries to find one in that specific condition and it would be his pleasure to christen its first use with young blood. Pale fingers practiced clenching around the steely cool handle to find a comfortable grip; he was still getting used to it. "So we should make sure that we kill everyone we shoot. Is my understanding in that way correct? So that they do not have _any_ survivors left to give firsthand accounts."

 

            The dark skinned man hardly looked squarely at his associate as he replied, "Correct. Anyone who contacts you, you may kill. We want this to look a certain way."

 

            "Want this to look _how_ exactly?" A huge man with savage eyes, large lips, and a reasonably dark tan hunched over his lap, loading his own firearm with bullets and inspecting the piece as he'd done many times today. He was the most unfeeling about this errand they were on; he didn’t care what he shot if it was permitted by his overs. "How it should look was never something we talked about at all!" His voice boomed. His guile lacked.

 

            "Turn that volume knob on your damn voice down. Master Aizen’s wishes are to have this little pest killed. We are making our façade out to be a school incident. Authorities won't understand that we are after anyone specific if we are indiscriminately killing most anyone we see. Now it has been explained to you." The pale man was impatient and would only reexplain this to his less clever associate this once.

 

            The large man of the three grumbled ‘hmm’ and scratched his head. “Just as long as I get to kill more than a few things.”

 

            “You will. Dolt,” the pale man snapped. “And we will not have anything to do with the blame.”

 

            "Per the contracts you've both received you are assured that higher powers will divert the blame and suspicion. Cameras in the school will be nonfunctional. There are other precautions taken that I am not allowed to discuss," the dark skinned man expressed for clarity. He worked regularly and directly with Sosuke Aizen so he was privy to more information than they were but recognized that they needed some assurances restated.

 

            The other two associates’ attention rested fully on Tosen.

 

            "We will be _ghosts_ ," Tosen elaborated.

 

            The largest man continued with his unintelligible comments, "We could have him sniped! It would be _easy_. Or mugged! Kill him out in a public place with a bomb!"

 

            "You _dense_ oaf. We are doing it this way to mislead authorities about our target. Those ideas indicate him immediately." The pale faced man seemed very annoyed with the huge fellow's chattering for one reason or another. "Can we talk about this _less_?"

 

            "Does killing your ex-boyfriend's trick really bother you so much? I didn't realize that you possessed a _conscience_ , Ulquiorra." This accusation came from the darker skinned man in sunglasses. Tosen was probably the only one in this car who could get away with such a sharp assumption without being outright attacked because of status.

 

            Ulquiorra still gave Tosen a sharp glare. "No it does _not_ , and I do not have that sort of conscience, regardless. My conscience only dictates that I feel bad for myself and revenge is acceptable. So now that we are _clear_ , _drop_ the matter." He was very jealous that Aizen had explicit plans for Grimmjow which meant that he wasn’t allowed to touch the man.

 

            Tosen leaned back in his leathery seat. "As you wish..." he openly mocked. The town car absorbed the bumps of the treacherous road quite well and didn't jostle them badly, it was comfortable transportation for their errand. "How sad for you... Regardless of your bitter feelings…shoot him in the _head_ or the _heart_. A uniform massacre is what this should elude to."

 

            Ulquiorra swallowed an upcoming retort toward the dictation and started loading bullets into his pistol's magazine with solid clicks.

 

            “Enjoy your kill but no mutilation whatsoever. Master Aizen might reward you better in the end.” Then Tosen turned a blind eye to the sulking of his pale associate.

 

            “It must suck to have a grudge,” the large man mentioned.

 

            Ulquiorra grit his teeth together.

 

            Yammy's commentary killed the conversation. Probably for the better.

 

            Tosen was quiet, contemplative to himself, running over plan and procedure in his head discretely. He only needed them to shoot a few people, protect their identities....and of course kill Doctor Kurosaki's son. Grimmjow wouldn't get away from their reach either, but they'd get him another day - alive.

 

            Bored after a few minutes of silence Yammy pushed another question, “What about the teachers and staff? Can we kill them too?” It was almost like he hadn’t been seriously listening to the conversation earlier.

 

            "You may shoot _anyone_ who comes your way." Tosen reiterated, staring out of the Lincoln town car’s broad windows.

 

            Ulquiorra looked up in irritation and Yammy immediately avoided the peeved and poisonous gaze. His thoughts were ticking as his anticipation roiled and it really didn’t help that Yammy was still talking…

 

            There was so much tension in this car it almost forced the men against their seats in that it took up so much space.

 

            Aware of the tension and its risk to interfere with their mission here, Tosen spoke up to encourage the men to stay focused. "Assuredly, if you fuck this operation up the one who fucks up will _severely_ wish he hadn't…with all of the bones in his body. I hope we are _clear_ on that." Master Aizen was not to be disappointed…and Tosen liked to disciple those who did disappoint his boss. Through his sharp and dark sunglasses the man slowly turned his head toward his associates. Long dreads of hair hanging down to frame his strong face were like snakes…waiting to bite the first man who dared make an excuse.


	47. Lorn Angel - Flay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: guns, blood, violence, violence related to school threats - if you’re sensitive that theme you should not read this, terror, angst

**Chapter Forty-Seven**

_“Lorn Angel - Flay”_

 

 

_[Karakura High present time with Ichigo and Renji and a blizzard from hell…]_

            With his back to the shed’s door Ichigo had weakened, cold and tired from forcing the door to stay shut with no way to lock it in place except by his own strength jamming it. The bastard who was outside was certainly no friendly individual judging by the violent way that the door was being dealt with. Whomever it was had switched from shaking the handle to trying to kick the fucking thing in. The young man in the shed holding the door was starting to feel like his back was bruised… Frequent were Ichigo’s plumes of breath huffed as he supported the barrier, knowing it was his only protection from whatever vicious force that this was, but…how was he supposed to get to Renji like this?! He had to… Renji was probably hurt badly to be face down in the snow like that, and Ichigo felt that it was certainly his turn to take initiative. It was especially important to do so when someone else couldn’t defend themselves. "ARGH! Just go away!" Ichigo shouted. "We’ve done nothing and if you don't leave me alone-"

 

            The person outside kicked the door rather hard.

 

            Ichigo jolted with a pained groan and then pushed his weight hard up against the door again. He was stubborn to give in. “Just leave!”

 

            Outside of the shed to an imbittered Ulquiorra, bent on a revenge mission at whatever cost, the sound of a young voice ordering him to do anything was making the already angry man grit his teeth. He stopped kicking and aimed his gun at the door then fired twice. Ichigo’s voice stoked it, but his mind blazed out of control. Ulquiorra felt a rage toward this _boy_ who held the heart of someone he wanted for himself. It was pathetic and near terrifying that Ulquiorra had _never_ been more passionate about anything else in his life until now. One burning selfish desire for vengeance.

 

            No bullets grazed Ichigo as they only sunk into and couldn't pass through the metal of the door thankfully but the startled teenager did jump away from the door when they dented into it. A mistake; one he really couldn’t help. It took Ichigo only moments to realize that he hadn’t been shot but he had given up his advantage.

 

            The pale skinned, raven haired man was quick to stomp on the door more and found it caved easily without a body holding it up. He kicked it savagely several more times and then, with pistol poised, Ulquiorra advanced into the shed with the cornered young man. A murderous intent resided in his emerald eyes, and an emotionally seething form in contrast of the freezing cold of the wintery blizzard burned upon him. Ulquiorra advanced with a noticeable _limp_ though. That foot which had been shot by Grimmjow, for Ulquiorra being a tightlipped twit, hadn't ever healed so well as the pale man might have wanted it to in the end...

 

            The lethal presence of the firearm made Ichigo rather complacent to obey whatever orders would follow. His face assumed one expression of worry.

 

            The gloom of the shed was a perfect setting for the foreboding man in black. Ulquiorra’s aim trained up to the young man ahead of him in the small equipment shed. He didn’t even register the feeling of the cold weather right now with his prey so cornered.

 

            As he watched the man’s slender gloved hands holding the gun Ichigo’s arms lifted somewhat into the air and his hands flattened. As the pale man in the suit raised his weapon to aim Ichigo stammered nervously, "P-Please don't shoot..." Surely there could be a way to reason with this man. Shaking as he shivered from the cold Ichigo was half shivering from fear again as well. He was worried that even if there was a way to reason that he wouldn’t be able to find it. “I-I don’t even know what I’ve done…”

 

            Ulquiorra’s grip on the pistol tightened a little, tensely apprehensive to begging. The leather of his sleek gloves creaked.

 

            Per the small cue Ichigo grew slightly more fearful that he would be shot, “I-I don't want trouble.”

 

            "Ignorance is no excuse! You _are_ trouble," the pale man shouted while snow from the doorway blew harshly inward around his dark form.

 

            Ichigo flinched, confused. His fear was stacking.

 

            "A plentiful amount of trouble to my mind…" Ulquiorra growled with words so imbittered that they were almost corrosive. His teeth bared as he spoke more… "Like a fungus that just grows and worsens into something ranker than how it started. Spreading over _everything_..!" Not mincing words, Ulquiorra's vivid greens glared out from under the sharp hat on his head. _Hatred._ When Ulquiorra had been further enlightened that Grimmjow had found a happiness with another man he'd had no quick solution. _Jealousy._ Unfortunately for himself, Ulquiorra had failed to take Grimmjow back by direct force and temptation the last time they’d seen each other. _Revenge._ As he realized that he would never have back the sinfully succulent man he desired at least he could make that man _suffer_. A last emotion that he could evoke from Grimmjow and savor… How could Grimmjow prefer someone so _scrawny_ , so _young_ , so _tender_ and grossly _meek_? Wasn’t it boring? This young shit wasn’t allowed to be better in any way than himself in Ulquiorra’s mind. There was no ‘maybe’ or small exceptions. To this man the person in his way was almost as disposable and lowly as an object. _Selfishness._ Those preferences…to wish for someone so _lesser_ just wasn’t fitting for a man with a body that could tempt gods to leave their thrones and come to him in adoration and admiration. Ulquiorra had fallen once for Grimmjow, he’d fallen hard and never gotten over it, but by his own hand he’d ruined what bond they’d had… By treating Grimmjow like an object, much as he was doing to this young man now. Ulquiorra lacked the compassion to just let bygones be bygones when he couldn’t have what he wanted. He’d always been like this.

 

            Innocent Ichigo didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, someone whom he’d never met. This pale man with a gun before him was just that. A man. A gun. A threat to his wellbeing. He shouldn’t have to assuage such an evil, selfish man but if he could have assuaged this man to save his own life Ichigo might’ve. _‘I-I just don’t understand…’_ For now he just trembled as they stood facing off, and dared not grab anything in the shed for the pistol aimed at himself wasn’t very far away and it wouldn’t miss…trained with aim at his head.

 

            Ulquiorra’s boiling thoughts stayed flooded with red rage until by this point realizing that this young man wasn’t going to fight him…Ulquiorra’s mood turned into a deathly cool and collected resolve. He would coldly pull the trigger and feel better he supposed. Perhaps his reward for behaving well from Aizen would be time with his blue haired god. Grimmjow was so sinfully good that he was addictive and without it had drowned this man’s soul. Activating the lust in select hearts that beheld him, being with Grimmjow was drug-like. Irresistible! To those so addicted like Ulquiorra it would make men kill to have back that which they had no longer…or kill to make sure that no one else was spoiling it. Ulquiorra planned where he would put his bullet, right through that pretty frightened face's eye. Right...or left though? The pale man resided in cold resolve with his icy considerations. "Say your prayers, you thorn in my side..." He could feel the sheer anticipation rushing in as a thrill.

 

 _'Someone...'_ Just someone... _'Someone please help me...'_ It was too early to phase out of life. Ichigo started breathing hard and evenly, puffs of it forming. "I'm sorry, for whatever I did... I'll go willingly. I swear!" It wasn't like he knew who Ulquiorra was, even without a concealing hat so he didn't have any chance at apologizing for what truly antagonized the man. The pale man didn’t lower the pistol.

 

            Not that Ulquiorra would have received that apology even if it was made. Vengeful and hell-bent on his murderous path Ulquiorra fired words back, "I SAID IGNORANCE IS _NO_ EXCUSE! I would actually rather _kill_ you than anything else. You are very fortunate that you will die in this quick manner rather than torture, which I personally feel is the most appropriate, but an unavailable option at this point. Pray to your god or gods...I am sending you to meet them, thorn."

 

            Suddenly there was a slam and rattle of the shed's doorway as it was wrenched open wider and in reached a pair of blackened, clawed hands and what seemed like smoke surrounding them. They immediately grabbed onto Ulquiorra by the shoulders and began pulling him toward the entrance. The man’s aim with the pistol was shaken. A dark mist crept over the worn floor of the shed and poured in through the shed’s door - the mysterious new presence probably being the source. It did not change the freezing temperature of the shed’s space, if anything it made it colder in there.

 

            "What is this?!" Ulquiorra fought to keep his place and squeezed on the trigger of his gun without much mind for aim. It clicked but never fired. Metallic fluid leaked out of its magazine and chamber in large globs of sludge-like consistency. The bullets therein were being melted down by something… _unnatural_. "Let me go...at once!" Trying to stage a resistance to the strange hands that were pulling him Ulquiorra leaned forward on his feet but he had no chance of holding out on the strong creature. It continued pulling him toward the doorway as his shoes slid across the shed’s floor. Next followed a bellow of anger or terror as the emerald eyed man was yanked outside into the snowstorm with a mighty tug and a flail.

 

            The last a wide eyed Ichigo had seen was the terrified gleam in the green eyes. _'Shit! What was that?!'_ Beyond this, out of the open door, Renji was still laying in the snow though, and the two Ichigo had just had a scare with were now nowhere to be seen…or heard. That was a good opportunity if he’d ever recognized one. With a bolt of courage sent through himself Ichigo dug through the sports supplies and found a wooden bat. He pulled it from the rack and hustled into the freezing wind and outside of the shed with the last ounces of his strength riding on his movements. His arms were at the ready to swing the bat but the monster and the man were not close. The snow whipped and blew in his face. Squinting into the wind at first Ichigo’s nervous hazel eyes jerked this way and that but within the blizzard’s tempest of snow he still did not see or hear them. Fuck it. If he could find them that was good enough. Along the uneven ground Ichigo started to stumble forward as the full force of the snowstorm continued to batter him and pushed his body around with gusts and pelted him with chunks of snow. He was pushing himself as hard as the storm was pushing back and Ichigo was really starting to feel horrible from the hypothermia worsening but he wasn’t a pushover when he had a goal to save someone in mind. The mind could will the body far beyond what it seemed like a physical self could handle. He couldn’t save Grimmjow from suffering all those months and months ago but maybe he could save Renji from suffering this time. He didn’t want anyone to suffer.

 

            It was so hard to walk and Ichigo heaved in his every breath and coughed into the cold as his body was having rapidly increased difficulty staying warm now that he was now exposed to the windchill. Spontaneous weather wasn't unusual here but no one could have ever been prepared for such brutal snow thrust on them so erratically. The horrid chill cut straight through Ichigo's uniform again and by the time the fumbling and stumbling teenager reached his injured friend, only so many yards ahead of the shed, Ichigo had almost no strength left to stand. Staggering, Ichigo set the bat next to himself in the snow drifts and with a crunch dropped to his knees in the snow and picked up Renji by the torso and shook him. "Renji!" Crimson hair of the other young man came out of the tail it had been in as the frozen-over hairband holding it up broke and Renji’s hair was tossed, soaked, over his tattooed face. “Renji please…” Ichigo begged but his friend remained limp and quiet. "Renji! Renji!" He had no strength to carry the other student and he knew it- Ichigo's head jerked up and his vision whipped around before he could try to carry Renji; he’d heard screaming around them and the sounds of struggling coming close. There was a separate crunching of snow and hazy dark figures came into view but still mostly obscured by the pelting of white around them. Ichigo hugged Renji to himself out of fear or maybe just to warm the other young man up and swallowed in a shaky motion.

 

            One of the figures was the pale fiend who would have claimed a youth’s life for his own selfish desires. He was stumbling and running from that which mysteriously and mercilessly pursued him, but he was caught up to quickly enough. Ulquiorra cried, "RELEASE ME!!" hurling anything he could, rocks and snow from the ground, and even punching the thing which kept a vice’s hold on him now that it had caught up. Fuck only knew how Ulquiorra had wriggled free from it dragging him outside…even the pale skinned fellow didn’t quite understand.

 

            It was likely though that this creature was playing with its prey. Right now it was trying to pull Ulquiorra along the snowy packed ground to bring him closer. Reel him in as it was.

 

            As a witness Ichigo recognized some of what was happening.

 

            Ulquiorra’s clothing was torn by the time he was reeled in. His gestures were wild and ferocious.

 

            Ichigo had never seen someone so desperately trying to wriggle away from another.

 

            “RELEASE ME!” Ulquiorra screamed.

 

            From this further position, but not terribly far off now, Ichigo's eyes were gravitating to the scene. Even through the snow he could see…a larger black mass choked up a hold on the screaming human in the torn-up suit. Ichigo assumed its whole hand… Was that even a hand..? …encompassed the man's skull and clamped down. The blackened creature violently twisted its prey’s head with many cracks and ripping sounds before utterly tearing it off. There were a few long sprays of dark blood upward and the rest of the human’s body flopped limply as the head was pitched into the white storm. Ichigo felt his body hint that it wanted to heave or faint as it already trembled from fear and the cold. He started to shake even more as the reality of what had just happened settled in. _‘Killed him…’_

 

            ...and now...

 

            ...the black beast dropped the remains of the corpse and slowly started approaching the two young men - one conscious and cowering in the snow and the other unconscious and helpless.

 

            Fully aware that his friend was unable to defend himself and barely able to do anything himself Ichigo fought his fear and limitation bravely. He sought his feet even though he couldn’t feel them. Leaving Renji in the snow Ichigo poised the wooden bat. "GET BACK!" Though his hands shook...though his whole body was being chilled to death and already had some quickly worsening frostnip...though he was much slighter than this creature…Ichigo bravely stood his ground despite the terror parallel to him. If it did take his head off or beat him to death with its limbs or even tore him open with its claws he wouldn’t die without trying to defend his friend and himself.

 

            Through the snow the blackish creature stomped through snow drifts at an eerily even rate with a slumped posture. Wings behind itself drug along the ground and its two blackened arms dangled at its sides. Its massive feet only sunk in the high drifts but it seemed to have no trouble advancing. When it was close enough the creature reached out toward the standing young man with a low growl from its fanged maw. The thing reeked of blood. There were strips of flesh and gore hanging from its clawed hands.

 

            Fearfully Ichigo swung the bat and struck at its reaching arm. “AAAH!”

 

            The blackened hand of that arm pivoted and gripped the bat, ripping it from the teenager and making the little human stumble and fall in the snow.

 

            His numb hands and knees caught him. Shakily Ichigo caught his breath and stood up again very slowly. The peculiar thing was that the beast allowed him to get back up. Ichigo maintained his ground with his fists poised next as a last resort even though his bare arms were stupidly numb. Renji’s unconscious body rested at the back of his legs. "GET BACK! I'M WARNING YOU!" The wind blew hard against him and made his tired body want to collapse all the more. As he'd feared the creature wasn't intimidated in the slightest and moved closer.

 

            The bat in the creature’s hold was squeezed until it splintered under the force of the grip and fractured then was dropped. There seemed a blue and black steam rising from this beast that was carried with the wind but generated endlessly. Like an eternal smoke from a fire.

 

            Just before Ichigo could think about throwing any sort of a punch there was a sound behind him. There was no time to look behind himself.

 

            As the gun fired in the next instant the black creature's chest lowered to a human’s eyelevel and its blackened smoking wings enveloped them. Both youths and the creature itself. As the bullets hit the covering blackness around them the projectiles burned away upon contact. The bullets were only sinking into the strange blockade of wings slightly but being given no passage through.

 

            Ichigo's eyes opened as he couldn’t feel the shocking wind blowing and he realized that he wasn’t in agony like he’d thought being shot would feel like. Bullets like these would actually blow parts of men off of their bodies but the young students here wouldn’t come to find this out firsthand as their lives were guarded. Ichigo’s mouth gaped as he looked up, eyes traveling upward of the mighty chest before him to the face of the creature where long cerulean strands of hair, blackened at the tips, collected on one side of the creature's head and wavered around a fierce face with sharp teeth bared.

 

            The beast realized the gaze and tucked its head down for a moment, "Don't be scared. I've got ya...kid..." its voice rumbled. Blazing cerulean eyes reassured the terrified young man whom he guarded by making his own body a barrier, trying to be soothing.

 

            This beast radiated a warmth...familiar...

 

            No hail of bullets could penetrate and eventually Yammy's two clips of automatic ammunition and one magazine in his handgun ran out. "Shit!" The enormous oaf charged the grouping not realizing that one of them was more than he could handle under any circumstances.

 

            Almost simultaneously Tosen arrived on the scene, drawn over by the sound of gunfire. He saw Yammy's charge and began unloading on the creature from behind to put an end to the nonsense that this was about to become. He was only firing a handgun but it packed some high caliber bullets. Their plans for this mission were starting to fall to tatters.

 

            The onslaught of bullets sent Yammy faltering from his charge and ducking for cover. “What the fuck you asshole?! Don’t shoot me!” He didn’t want to catch an off bullet from that gun.

 

            Tosen witnessed the same result as his associate had. Bullets were useless. All of the bullets burned away in the wings that swirled smoky and black around the grouping of two students and this… _thing_. Desperate because no amount of bullets seemed to have any effect on his opponent, Tosen stepped back in the snow to give himself a better vantage point. There had to be an opening or a weak point on it. His sharp hat was whipped off by the wind and the man’s snake-like dreadlocks were sent all ways up in the snowy tempest. In his backpedaling Tosen kicked Ulquiorra's arm. He looked down instinctively to see what he'd stumbled on and jumped away right away when he vaguely realized whose decapitated body was there. Even Tosen was unnerved but looked up and raised his gun again. If he didn’t fire enough to keep it at bay he’d be as dead as Ulquiorra, that stupid bastard.

 

            The black beast kept the wings about itself and the young men and waited for the magazine to run dry...and when it did...those wings unfurled in a mighty spread. The wind pushed against them making their smoke-like steam travel but the beast itself didn’t seem to waver. Surely they faced something not of this world.

 

            Given the break in Tosen’s firing Yammy made a distasteful face and ran head on toward the thing with battle-like cry of blind rage. What a frustrating opponent. It didn't seem Yammy could differentiate between certain mortal danger and reasonable danger.

 

            Uncertain in this surreal situation, Ichigo's arms clutched near himself as the huge wings sprawled to either side overhead and exposed him to the weather again. It was burning him, the cold was. Some of his limbs he couldn’t even feel - maybe wouldn’t ever feel them again. From his shorter vantage Ichigo’s hazel eyes quivered to watch the wings’ massive size unfurling over his head in a mighty display up into the snowstorm. Though the wind beat them the beast did not budge…yet. Ichigo got an eyeful of the large thing’s masculine form, packed with muscle and onyx black markings but in paces there were sections of man-like flesh…and scars… In the next moments the mighty wings lowered and after shedding some of their size, like smoke fanned off of a dying fire, the seething beast stepped around Ichgio and Renji and ran at the large charging man.

 

            Tosen held his fire with a dissatisfied face. Damn that stupid Yammy…

 

            The two charging forces met with a hulking collision and struggled for a few moments, but quickly the creature overpowered the large human and there came a vast amount of tearing of flesh.

 

            On shaky legs Ichigo stood alone, petrified by the sheer carnage that followed. His body was weak and honestly he was so scared stiff that he couldn’t even throw up. In the pelting of snow it was hard to see anything specific right away as they were a couple of yards away but he got the hint by the sprays of blood and chunks of matter slung around them.

 

            Realizing his opportunity to do something while Yammy was a distraction at most, Tosen was creeping his way toward the orange haired teenager through the snow and would have had him...if a redhead hadn’t interfered at the risk of worsening his injured condition.

 

            He could find only one suitable weapon on the fly… With all of the strength he could muster Renji clubbed the black skinned man on the head with the sole of his own shoe. _Hard_ , as hard as he could.

 

            Ichigo hadn't noticed Tosen or Renj’s scuffle; he was transfixed by the fearful scene ahead of him. Eventually the weak and frozen teenager was made faint by it and his body’s inability to do anything more for itself. Numb and where he wasn’t numb his body burned…his mind was screaming that these things were impossible and couldn’t be real. Fantasy. He was at a physical and mental limit. With that, the very weary and shocked young man could take no more, and this was the point where Ichigo passed out and collapsed in the snow- or he would have fallen into the snow…

 

            Ichigo’s sorry body was caught before it could hit the cold drifts.

 

            Finished with its murderous task of dismembering and tearing limb from limb the brutish and dumb Yammy, the beast had turned around to address anything it'd missed beating down. It had reached out with an extending wing that formed up as quickly as a blink and caught the young man in his fall. The extended and smoky limb cradled Ichigo up as its owner walked near to them again. As this _thing_ there was no remorse or mercy in the space of his heart for people so evil. Evil...there was so much evil trying to ruin someone so good...trying to snuff out the loving soul of this young one. To kill…to take lives that weren’t vile...it was wrong. …and he wouldn't stand for it! Only burning desire he felt, of a loving and lustful base and strong conviction to protect one in mortal danger. Emitting a low hiss and then a growl the beast continued to carefully clutch the unconscious teenager and transferred the body to its clawed hands. Black and spattered with more biological matter this beast was no pleasant sight but it was gentle with the human though it loomed over him… This young man was safe, unharmed and alive. Alive...

 

            Mortally pushing his limits, Renji dropped to his knees in the snow with his removed shoe in-hand. The dark skinned man he'd struck was on the ground, unconscious. If the redhead's bloodied school uniform was any indication...he would need help himself pretty soon... Plenty of it… Renji breathed hard, his face a mixture of pain and exhaustion. Ichigo was safe at least, but that bullet hole through him didn't feel good at all and it was bleeding a whole lot...probably the worst kind of pain he'd ever felt considering he'd never been shot before. The injuries from his fight with Grimmjow weren’t all fully healed either; they’d really been strained with all of this. Renji's hands trembled to think of what he'd just accomplished even with another wound, and he also trembled to look and see the imposing creature as it spotted him not far away. The thing's blackened features were ominous and its position was fearsome but powerful. It had Ichigo…but at least it didn’t seem interested in hurting him.

 

            The beast snarled low. It stomped down snow as it approached Renji still holding Ichigo with careful claws. _No one_...would hurt...this kid… _anymore_. _No one!_

 

            Realizing that this thing might see him as a threat now that he was moving Renji retreating by crawling backward. It was entirely possible that when it had protected both young men from the hail of bullets that Renji was only protected because he was right beside Ichigo…not that Renji would have even known that had taken place… He’d only just roused when the creature was taking Yammy apart. A rightfully untrusting Renji struggled to keep away, bloodied hands sliding in the snow as he pulled himself along the ground. "No! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"

 

            There was no compassion...and no mercy. No mercy for the evil that would hurt good things and good people… Flesh dangled and drying blood flecked off of the hands of the beast. Smeared blood and torn clothing fragments…this could easily be Renji for he’d once been in a position to be harmful to Ichigo.

 

            " _GET AWAY!_ " Renji panted for breath as it came to him. He wasn’t innocent either. Perhaps right now he would be judged.

 

            The beast reached down and grabbed the redhead by the neck.

 

            The time of judgement was nigh, and unto the grim judge he was delivered. Even held up Renji could still vocalize and the young man chose to scream, hoarsely.


	48. Lorn Angel - Forlorn No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: mentions violence related to school threats - if you’re sensitive that theme you should not read this, terror, angst

**Chapter Forty-Eight**

_“Lorn Angel – Forlorn No More”_

 

 

_[The Kurosaki residence very late the same evening of the incident...]_

            Ichigo slowly awoke, blinking a couple of times and recognizing the popcorn ceiling above his own bed in his room. The scent of his own room… God he hated popcorn ceilings ever since he was a child when he'd struck his head on one. It was like head-butting a bumpy rock...not that he'd done that either...maybe... With a soft groan and a slow attempt to sit up the young man realized that he was in a fair amount of pain. He wasn’t able to sit up yet. There was a wrap with a temperate pack of fluid tied to his head to help assuage swelling and all four of his limbs were wrapped in some special sort of fabric he didn’t recognize. Another softly pained groan followed, and apparently he was being kept under close observation as his father entered his dark room through its open door a moment or so later following the sounds he was making. Ichigo looked up toward the grown man with weary eyes and confusion. "Dad..." Ichigo looked lost. Like he was waking from a dream. Or a nightmare. The worst nightmare…

 

            Seeing that his son was awake and able to recognize him brought a sense of great relief to the fatherly doctor. Isshin gave a long sigh and an easy smile, so easy that it was surely made with the intent to be comforting. "Ichigo, you had an accident at school. You’re at home now."

 

            Not a dream. "O-Oh…" Ichigo’s voice was soft and as weak as he felt. In a moment or two more he considered what he could remember and added, “I know.” Meekly accepting reality for what it was. The warmth of the fabric wraps on his arms and legs, the covers pulled over himself, and a recognizable pair of his flannel sleeping clothes gave him a little more energy to speak as they rejuvenated him just enough to keep him awake but Ichigo was still laying down without the strength to sit up. "What happened out there..? To the other students...and the school…" At his own question Ichigo's full sentence faded out, he was very unsure of a few details that he could recall because the ordeal had really overloaded him.

 

            To calmly explain Isshin walked over and sat down beside his son on the edge of Ichigo’s bed. The man’s comforting expression remained as he clicked on a lamp on Ichigo’s desk beside the bed. “Son, you’ve been through a lot-”

 

            “Tell me,” Ichigo demanded. Though he was weak he was determined to remember things clearly and his dad’s expression was meant to be comforting but that fact only made Ichigo worry for the worst. Renji…

 

            With a sigh Isshin relinquished the facts that he was guarding. If Ichigo was going to grow up strong he would need to be treated like an adult, not babied. "Three armed men came into your high school and shot and killed several people."

 

            Unfortunately Ichigo's brow twisted with an emotional pain that stung so hard that he choked up on the spot. Renji. Had... Had Renji died?

 

            "And you _mysteriously_ appeared here."

 

            Some tears of ambiguous emotion streamed down the sides of Ichigo’s reclined face regardless of his desire to hold them back. "'M-Mysteriously'?"

 

            "Yes son, I didn't dress you for bed or carry you into the house, or even cover you up, though I did tend to your body’s contusions, lacerations and hypothermia when I came home. The first of those though was someone else with your comfort in mind."

 

            Ichigo still swallowed worriedly.

 

            Isshin placed a hand on his son’s shoulder and carefully patted it, "You had a good bit of frostnip, luckily it didn’t turn into frostbite. You won’t have any lesions or severe lasting damage from the incident. Bit of a bump on your head too that needed a little attention, but it wasn’t concussive which I think that ice pack is taking care of just fine."

 

            Ichigo still appeared rattled by what he’d heard but he was surprisingly calm. Maturely so.

 

            "I was so afraid for you… Do you remember anything about how you might’ve gotten home?" Isshin didn't know a thing past getting a phone call at work from the high school about the threat. The father had immediately hung up his doctor's coat and hurried home because no one was allowed near the school yet…and so he waited. When again called and told that Ichigo hadn't turned up at the school with rollcall Isshin drove over anyway through the blizzard and implored the campus security until they let him go searching around the school for his son. They’d discovered the scene at the shed... Corpses left in pools of their own blood. One survivor that was not Ichigo. There were no footprints left to follow. No extra clues. Virtually nothing, like a ghost had gone on a rampage and then fled into the swirling snow.

 

            "I don't...know…" Ichigo whimpered with the tears flowing and unable to stop. He was confused and apprehensive. “I’m hungry…”

 

            “Ok, son.”

 

            “Is the weather still…”

 

            "Crazy? Yes. It’s quite a storm out there, but we’ll be ok. It's ok, son." Isshin slowly rose from Ichigo’s bedside, switching off the desk’s lamp, and walked toward the doorway mentioning, "Grimmjow's downstairs and he's been rather patient and waited to come up and see you until you woke up so I'll tell him to come up here now. I'm sure that he will be a nice distraction." He was so grateful that his son was alive... Isshin made his way out of the doorway of the dark bedroom and down the upstairs hallway; his feet in stupid looking bunny slippers made shuffling sounds on the wooden floor.

 

            Glimpsing the dumb slippers before his dad left it was almost a relief. Everything at home was as it should be…except…Grimmjow wasn’t a regular here. To make himself seem less upset Ichigo furiously wiped the tears off of his face but they just kept flowing as he did so. The young man wasn’t sobbing but he was crying, unceasingly. Growing a little more distressed that they wouldn’t stop Ichigo just continued wiping at them. His hands and arms felt funny from being used like this. Tingly and a little too hot. He came to remember almost everything. Soon his sleeve was soaked and he only just stopped in time to notice Grimmjow come to the doorway.

 

            The cerulean haired man stood respectfully there…just in the doorway and didn’t quickly rush in as he might’ve if circumstances were different. He didn’t know much about Ichigo’s physical or mental condition right now, he’d just been given a quick ‘go on up’ by Isshin. He didn’t want to startle the probably weak young man, and immediately realized that Ichigo had been crying quite a bit by the glossy shine over them and their puffy nature. By the light of the open doorway it was really obvious. All that the young man had been through was still bound to upset him of course, Grimmjow felt it was understandable but sad. "Mind if I come in?" his soothing voice rumbled with the polite request.

 

            Turning his head toward the man in the doorway Ichigo realized that not only was Grimmjow’s behavior odd that his appearance was too. Grimmjow's eyes had a property about them which was weird. They _glowed_. Literally. They weren't just vivid color tonight in the dark of his room…there was luminescence with their usual color. For one elongated minute Ichigo stared speechlessly to make sure that his own eyes weren’t fooling him. They weren’t. So he wasn't remembering things wrong? "What in hell…"

 

            “Hey, I- …” Grimmjow changed what he was going to say. "It’s just me… Just the normal me." Despite the reassurance Grimmjow watched Ichigo's face assume a horrified expression. The onset of guilt was immediate because the man knew exactly what he’d willingly done right in front of Ichigo. It was really hard to be a spectator right now especially with a straight face when all he really wanted to do was rush in.

 

            “How?” Ichigo’s small, hollow sounding word was vague.

 

            The best he could Grimmjow assumed what Ichigo meant and replied, "...I was at work when I collapsed out of the blue according to other people. Then I had a vision of ya…and people threatenin' your life…" He barely believed what he was saying, but it was all the truth. “…and then I was there.”

 

            Grimmjow had brutally killed two people... _two human beings!_ The young man exhaled a shaky breath as Grimmjow’s reply was relevant to what he wondered. Ichigo pulled on his covers, face twisting with discomfort. He was so afraid of this, a little afraid of this crazy situation, but mostly scared of Grimmjow. " _What are you?!_ "

 

            Blinking downward Grimmjow stared at the floor of the bedroom and shrugged. Hell if he really knew.

 

            "This is impossible. This whole situation is _impossible_!"

 

            "Clearly not."

 

            "How can you _not_ know what you are?!" Ichigo coughed because he was shouting and still recovering from being quite cold. He couldn't help fixing a stare on the man’s unnatural luminously blue eyes.

 

            Grimmjow warily turned his gaze upward and held up his hands with the fingers apart. "I'm just as confused as ya are Ichi, stop reamin' me, alright? I don't feel good about the blood on my hands." He started to take a step closer.

 

            "Don’t you dare! Stay the hell away from me!" Ichigo ordered. It seemed that Ichigo’s maturing tolerance for scary situations did in fact have limits. He was also in quite an extreme situation with his lover being someone who would kill for him. In other ways like suggestion alone that idea might be romantic but in reality…it was still murder.

 

            "Ichi-"

 

            "MURDERER!" The orange haired teenager shouted.

 

            Grimmjow faltered in his steps and stayed back closer to the doorway.

 

            Ichigo started to sob into the covers bunched in his clutching hands. " _Monster!_ _Murderer!_ Stay away!"

 

            Grimmjow took those words a little hard but he really tried to be understanding. It was Ichigo’s stress talking, not how Ichigo usually was.

 

            All of the yelling didn’t call anyone extra to the bedroom.

 

            Ichigo slid toward the furthest wall from the door and huddled under his window in a ball of covers and blankets. Pulling a pillow over he held it against his face, trembling and sobbing uncontrollably. Too much…this part of the events he’d suffered was too much right now. Even though the intent was to protect him Grimmjow had torn _people_ apart like paper dolls. _‘No, no, no!’_ Ichigo was scared of the facts.

 

            Those words still hurt. They hurt _a lot_. Grimmjow sighed softly in slight defeat of being unable to explain himself without triggering this. His lover had reduced him to the image of a murderer for the time being and curled into a ball and moved as far as humanly possible from him to cower. To cower from what exactly though? A murderer or just a man who’d severely caught him off guard? Moving over to the bed anyway, Grimmjow sat on the very edge and twisted his body so that he could face the Ichi-ball of covers. "Are ya warmer now?" he asked with a gentle concern, leaning forward and touching the edge of the pillow to bring it down from Ichigo's face. If Ichigo wasn’t so scared it would have been just an adorable bundle.

 

            First flinching away but at a second attempt letting the pillow lower Ichigo felt a strong hand rubbing his covered side and a worried face trying to look at his own. The young man hesitantly tilted his face up, reddish. The luminosity of Grimmjow’s unnatural eyes was even more obvious close up and though beautiful blue it still scared him. Ichigo made a small squeak of a sound that wasn’t becoming of a young man who was almost an adult. He swallowed and tried again to form a response, “I am…”

 

            “You’re scared.”

 

            The Ichi-ball replied with mumbles into the pillow. “No shit…”

 

            Grimmjow smiled as that reply held a little bit of Ichigo’s usual spunk, "Well it's just me, and I’m not dangerous to ya." The man shook his head, "I’m not a monster. Not in the slightest." Ichigo still looked scared and that worried him. "I _promise._ Remember, I love ya, and I mean it." Grimmjow formed a warm smile with much effort. He’d been worried for a minute there that this trauma would be permanent.

 

            After some silence and the trembling of his weary body eased Ichigo started talking to the man comforting him in almost a whisper, "Is this why your hair grows in blue?" He couldn't think of _anything_ else he wanted an answer to right now - extremely afraid of the answers he would get.

 

            Brows lifting up Grimmjow was clearly not expectant to be asked such a thing and gave a vague shrug. “I don’t think I know as much about myself as I would like to.”

 

            “Then how do you know that you’re not a monster?”

 

            “Well monsters hurt everything they come across, and I would never hurt ya. I still have my morals.”

 

            The cowering teen gave a sniffle back. Timidly Ichigo began to look over Grimmjow's face. A few small cuts above the brows but nothing else...though that unnatural glow was really freaking him out but he was becoming a little more rational. “‘M-Monstrum’.”

 

            “Hmm?” Grimmjow was immediately confused.

 

            “I learned it in school… That’s the word that ‘monster’ comes from.”

 

            It seemed to Grimmjow that Ichigo was still hung-up on the monster thing. He didn’t want Ichigo to look at him as a monster, even if he was unnatural. “I’m nothing like tha-”

 

            “Stop it.” Ichigo sniffed. Even though he was upset he knew better than to believe things that were too good to be true after what he’d seen.

 

            Nervously Grimmjow stopped objecting and just watched Ichigo who actually came out of the ball he’d curled into a little and pulled on the man’s arm. Realizing what Ichigo was trying to do, coax him onto the bed, Grimmjow lifted his legs and slid onto the bedding beside the young man.

 

            The Ichi-ball seemed pleased and softly smiled. “Monstrum Grimm.”

 

            Situated so that he was laying down Grimmjow shook his head with displeasure. “Don’t call me that…”

 

            “I had a thought though.”

 

            “If it involves calling me something else…”

 

            Ichigo reached out of his covers and slapped Grimmjow on the forehead. The man flinched with surprise. “Don’t be dense…you might be a monster but you’re _my_ monster.”

 

            Grimmjow quieted for a minute. That wasn’t an unbearable thought at all. “But you’re afraid of me as a monster.”

 

            “In time maybe that will change.” It seemed that Ichigo’s rationality had come back to him. It was all in not being babied. A reality not faced was one that couldn’t be handled. Ichigo wanted to handle their situation.

 

            The young man now looked sleepy, his head drooped toward the bed and Grimmjow pressed the pillow that Ichigo was clutching under it. "Should I close the door? The hallway light-"

 

            "No, I think I'm tired enough to sleep with it open." Ichigo didn’t care about it being perfectly dark or private. Of all the things they’d done in this room they didn’t need a lot of privacy for this anyway. The house was peaceful. The lights, including Grimmjow’s eyes, while they were open, weren’t obnoxious. Ichigo's body relaxed. Ichigo stayed back against the wall but one of his wrapped arms was out and his hand was ontop of one of Grimmjow’s that was laying flat against the bed. Repeatedly Ichigo remind himself that this was Grimmjow, and Grimmjow would never hurt him. Never.

 

            "You're not scared of the dark, then?"

 

            Ichigo felt small scabs from cuts that were trying to heal on Grimmjow's hand. Tiny reminders. "If I am I’m not sure if it’s final…"

 

~

 

            Isshin walked upstairs with a tray that had soup, water, and some of Yuzu’s cookies on top of it for both of the people he knew were in Ichigo’s room. When he turned the corner to Ichigo’s bedroom the door was still open and the pair were both laying peacefully on Ichigo’s bed. The serene scene stalled Isshin. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen the glow in Grimmjow’s eyes, literally, but finding them at peace after such a bad scare was nice.


	49. La Pesadumbre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: angst

**Chapter Forty-Nine**

_“La Pesadumbre”_

 

 

            Ichigo began to wake from a rough sleep; it was rough in the sense that he felt like he'd had no rest because his body was uncomfortable and his mind was busy dreaming about his worries. That unrested feeling was frustrating. He blinked his foggy eyes open and slowly started to move around on his bed with discomfort, sluggishly realizing that there was still a second body at least partially draped over him which shared the surface of the bed. Ichigo himself was still mostly burrito-ed up in his covers; for all the physical discomfort considering his injuries at least he had cozy blankets. What took Ichigo a little longer to realize about his bedmate though, was that there were long black wings, steaming with otherworldly smoke, sprawled across the bed too and stretching onto the floor… The unnatural sight rendered Ichigo startled as he awoke. With force he kicked the startling body off the edge of his bed, and backed up - still half-awake but coming to a fully awakened state quick enough because of the scare. The icepack that had been tied to his head slipped with the sudden shifting and Ichigo pulled it and the wrap that was holding it on the rest of the way off, and his recovering body started to ache from all of the moving around. The thing here was…he'd totally forgotten…it was _Grimmjow_ sleeping next to him. Oops.

 

            Previously and peacefully asleep, getting a better quality of it than his lover perhaps, Grimmjow all of the sudden hit the floor with and uncomfortable 'thump'. He was stunned awake by the impact rather than the jarring kick. Those four blackish wings on his back broke into a haze of smoke and evaporated quickly as if they'd never even been there. The slightly sore man was slow to sit up and give a hard stare at Ichigo...who was bolt upright on top of the bed. "And that was for...?"

 

            The young man was a little embarrassed now that he realized whom he’d kicked. "S-Sorry..." Ichigo stammered, a little sense and some regret coming to him.

 

            The now normal looking man on the floor groaned unhappily as he folded his legs together while sitting down there and rubbed his hip from this low point. It hadn’t hurt Grimmjow badly to fall off of the bed. Even where Ichigo had kicked him was against the ribs wasn’t causing him agony. While Ichigo seemed to have forgotten, and Grimmjow seemed to take his recovery for granted…cracked and broken ribs weren’t supposed to mend that fast and they’d been cracked for less than a month…or were they still cracked at all?

 

            Currently oblivious to how lucky he was for Grimmjow’s unusual anatomy, Ichigo’s body wasn’t as lucky. It still hurt him to move, especially as he had.

 

            Feeling studied Grimmjow watched the young man atop the bed closely and eventually barked a question when he was unable to figure out why Ichigo was watching him like a perturbed hawk, “ _What?_ You’re starin’ like something happened…” If something had happened while he was sleeping he wanted to know about it.

 

            “Well it’s not… I don’t think anything happened I just saw something dark.” From this vantage point Ichigo looked Grimmjow over once. Anything to do with unnatural features, besides Grimmjow’s half-shaved head of cerulean hair, was gone. “Your eyes aren’t lit up.” They weren’t glowing anymore.

 

            Grimmjow’s gaze eased itself, at least nothing had really happened. “Take a huge breath. Relax.”

 

            Ichigo actually listened to that advice and inhaled long, held it, and then exhaled. He pondered the things he could remember… “Yesterday was real... Wasn't it?” His back rested against his bedroom’s wall beside his disheveled bed. The window’s curtains were closed, perhaps to keep out light or to keep in heat. There was a slight draft from the frigid temperature that lingered outside at the edge of the curtain which was near Ichigo’s back. The young man didn’t come off of the bed to help or sit near Grimmjow. It was horrible being startled to a fully awakened state after all of that shit and Ichigo still felt a bit cautious at heart.

 

            Comfortable on the floor the exotic man made no moves to encroach on Ichigo’s personal space; given the reaction that had led to him ending up on the floor in the first place he figured for right now that giving space was a good idea. "Well yeah. That all happened unfortunately."

 

            There was a chill which raced down Ichigo’s body, it wasn’t just from the draft. Ichigo swallowed a little lump in his throat and asked about something more specific of yesterday, "Is Renji..?"

 

            Grimmjow's expression seemed much less like any kind of stare after that question. It wasn’t that he couldn’t explain, it was more like he didn’t want to.

 

            With a sinking feeling Ichigo realized after a time that Grimmjow wasn't going to put out any words to answer him. Ichigo's posture slumped and his stare was at his lap. “I had dreams about him… Trying to buy his soul back from the underworld or some crazy shit…and whole bunch of other crap I’d rather never remember anything about ever again…”

 

            Grimmjow listened quietly with a soft gaze redirected to the young man after a few more seconds. He had hoped that when they woke up a lot of this would be put behind them, but it was foolish perhaps to hope that such a nightmarish event could be rolled off so soon. It was just hard to watch Ichigo like this, and it was hard to consider his own situation.

 

            Ichigo stayed rather quiet for a minute. “I don’t want to remember things wrong if I’m going to remember them at all. At least tell me what happened…”

 

            Grimmjow swallowed and tried to be kind with the way he would explain. Across from him Ichigo lifted his head and listened with a tentative stare. “Isshin was helping out but Renji was shot and bleeding quite a bit.”

 

            Ichigo's face twisted into a nervous mix of all sorts of feelings, the most prominent one: pain. Somber emotional pain. "Death is...still really hard for me..."

 

            “I never said that he was dead…”

 

            Ichigo shook his head and stayed somber. “I know better… In my dreams you were tearing up a crowd of innocent people, Grimm.”

 

            “What the hell? Do ya think I hurt Renji?” Grimmjow asked with a sternly concerned tone.

 

            “No! Just…”

 

            Those words stirred worry with Grimmjow. “I would never slaughter innocent people. … I just couldn't let ya get hurt, I swear on my honor that those men I tore up I killed because _they_ would have killed ya. I didn’t even realize that I could do that before yesterday.”

 

            "That doesn't give you the right to kill-" Ichigo stared but was cut off.

 

            "Ichigo please listen to sense…those men were murderous and vile."

 

            "You still killed people!" Ichigo argued back. He was being a little irrational.

 

            “They were murderers Ichigo! And they deserved to die!” Grimmjow kicked the side of the bed’s mattress with one foot.

 

            "You didn't know their side of things!" Ichigo hit the wall with a balled fist and chuckled his pillow at Grimmjow. His fist and arm tingled. The special wrapping over his limbs was starting to loosen up and hang off of him.

 

            The man batted the piece of bedding away. "Why does it bother ya so much?! Those men wanted to kill ya!”

 

            “Because you tore people limb from limb!” A horrific sight that he would never forget.

 

            Roused by Ichigo’s anger toward him for what he’d done Grimmjow jumped up and clenched his fists as he growled at the young man who furrowed his brows and glared at the risen man, “It was _ya_ or _them!_ Would ya like me to be honest?!”

 

            Ichigo shouted back, “Try me!” He was irrationally angry because the grief of all of this was all still a little much to get over.

 

            “ _Fuck ‘em!_ I don’t care if I tore open people who threatened your life! They had no regard for the lives of _anyone!_ ” Then something that Nnoitora had once said occurred to Grimmjow, ‘The way 'a this world ain't survivin' through elimination an' savagery.’ The way of the world was being the better man…and woman…Nel… through hardships. The exotic man’s overwhelming aggression wilted and he looked ashamed. He’d allowed himself to become so scared that he’d turned into a savage. Maybe he was a monster after all…because he couldn’t tell himself that he’d have done anything different with Ichigo’s life on the line. “They were probably out for your blood because you’re attached to me.”

 

            Ichigo nervously stalled, anger put aside. “Wh-what do you mean? ‘Attached to y-you’?”

 

            “I’m sorry for yellin’…let me explain…” Grimmjow sat down with a ‘thump’ on the wooden flooring of the bedroom. “Those men are all very likely to be working for someone who shouldn’t know that ya exist because this employer…he ain’t nice.” It was the fact that Grimmjow had seen Tosen with Aizen on multiple occasions and again yesterday with those assailants that had really given the connection away. Ulquiorra would do anything to get back at him. That other man who was probably ‘Yammy’, as mentioned by Ulquiorra, wasn’t actually someone whom Grimmjow knew… Gin, who was another hand of Aizen’s, had been mysteriously absent from all of this; Grimmjow still wondered about Gin. “It’s the same brown-haired man that ya saw approach me at the cemetery when I wouldn’t let ya out of my car. I swear I didn't realize he'd be this extreme, otherwise I’d have solved this problem before becoming part of your life...”

 

            Ichigo remembered how Grimmjow was carrying a gun that day, and how he’d used it to discourage that man from getting any closer. Ichigo also recalled that he’d recognized that man as the same one who’d had Grimmjow in the back room of the club so long ago and had done some questionable things to Grimmjow. “The same man…who I saw..? Who I told you that I saw with you at H.E.-?”

 

            “Can we not talk about that…” Grimmjow didn’t want to know how Ichigo had seen them, as the kid had already mentioned this the day of that funeral.

 

            “We need talk to sometime…”

 

            “Not right now.” Grimmjow was being very insistent.

 

            It was clear that this deeply bothered one more than the other but that was because of the extent of Aizen’s abuse. Ichigo didn’t know the full story of what Grimmjow had been through. The tangerine haired teen sighed in defeat, “Not right now then…” he sounded just a little irritated but rational, “…but later. I’m sorry if me demanding that is hard but a complete explanation would probably be helpful. For now though tell me more about how these men are connected to that disgusting man.”

 

            “As far as I know, two of them definitely had to do with the corpse at the barn.”

 

            “What?!”

 

            “The corpse we saw was eaten by dogs. That funeral was for an entirely new one… Think about it…whomever is doing this is enjoying their sick killin’ enough to do it more than once. They’d have the balls to go after anyone who was a threat or an irritation to them, because what’s killing one more person to some sick fuck who’d mutilate and murder? I told ya, they’re killers Ichigo. They don’t care about human life.” Grimmjow was going to continue having a very hard time being the better man with all of this.

 

            “Wait…hold on. You said before that they probably know who you are, so now they know who I am…” There was no other explanation for how they’d cornered him at school really. The scary reality took a minute to sink in. “But why do _any_ of them care who I am so suddenly?!”

 

             “Probably because that man ya saw me with is payin’ them to care. He’s got a bit of an unhealthy crush on me if ya catch my drift… He’s the type to be jealous of ya.”

 

            So this was why Grimmjow had had a gun. That man he’d seen Grimmjow with was a _psycho_. If this Aizen Sosuke owned Florentine Central Hospital that also explained why he’d shown up at the funeral with all of the rest of the hospital’s staff. An ounce of terror had trickled down Ichigo's face and just stayed there leaving him with a lasting horrified expression. “So jealous that he’d want me d-dead?” the young man croaked.

 

            With a swallow and a shrug the cerulean haired man moved up to the edge of Ichigo’s bed. “Well…jealousy and they probably remember ya from that night we were at the barn.” Grimmjow felt a rising guilt for what his whims and problems had wrought upon Ichigo. “I’m sorry… I- Aah!” Grimmjow was grabbed.

 

            Ichigo moved forward and grabbed the man by the shoulders and shook Grimmjow with surprising strength; it did hurt his sore body more to do that, though Ichigo didn’t seem to regard his own pain for the time being. “You kept this to yourself! All of this! Everything you knew!” The wrappings around his arms further loosened and started to slip off the young man’s limbs.

 

            Taken by surprise, Grimmjow let himself be shaken. Some of it he’d only just figured about but he supposed that most of it yes…he’d kept it to himself.

 

            “How dare you keep crappy secrets like this from me! How dare you!” Ichigo started to look like he would sob or maybe smack the man he had a hold of for being so reluctantly secretive. He stopped shaking Grimmjow and helped his special clothy wrappings by winding them around his arms again to correct the looseness. The bandages had already served their purpose and could come off but Ichigo didn’t know that. …or he just enjoyed looking like a mummy. His skin tingled only a little, he was recovering from the frostnip well.

 

            Feeling a quiver more of guilt, Grimmjow understood now that he really shouldn't have stayed so quiet about his troubles. No one could have known that they would have such dangerous ties but they were still unpleasant things about his life that he was trying to hide and perhaps bury until they just went away. Grimm gave his lover a few minutes to breathe as they just sat on the bed after Ichigo was done shaking him and currently tending to his bandages. “I didn’t realize the significance.” Grimmjow raised his hands and helped Ichigo tie off the ends of the wrappings with a gentleness.

 

            “All of your problems are significant to me, Grimm.” Pausing his repair of the mussed wrappings, Ichigo reached up nicely with his hands and cupped them around Grimmjow’s handsome face, “All of them. Don’t hide your troubles…”

 

            Grimmjow appreciated the warm palms holding his face up and sighed, surrendering to the truth: what he thought he could hide and let die wouldn’t stay hidden and die off. There was no point in hiding secrets. Grimmjow’s eyes sank as another thought occurred to him.

 

            Ichigo was picking up on the fact that the man he loved might have something else on his mind. “What is it?”

 

            “There's a bit more to it...” Grimmjow swallowed nervously after he spoke. “I’ve already told that guy to fuck off, that I won’t take him as a client anymore. His name is Aizen Sosuke. He’s not only your dad’s boss at the hospital but Aizen _owns_ that place, Florentine Central Hospital. He’s pretty damn powerful.”

 

            Ichigo's breath quivered for an instant.

 

            While he was on an honest track there was something else to confess too. "The rest of it is that Renji made it to the hospital, _not_ Central, it was another one…but he didn't-"

 

            Swiftly Ichigo put up a hand and shook his head, 'don't say it' that reaction begged. Grimmjow's further respectful silence confirmed what Ichigo was hoping to not hear. A few tears gushed out of his eyes and dripped onto the bedding, disappearing into the absorbent fabric of his blankets and sheets. "He just apologized to me for _everything_ yesterday... He can't just be…gone…"

 

            Grimmjow set his arms around Ichigo and tucked the young man’s head under his chin while they shared a spot in the middle of the bed. It was sad, it was really, really saddening. He could feel dampening tears through his shirt against his skin. Ichigo was crying a lot over this. "The truth is that I brought him to the other hospital since Central ain’t safe and then brought ya home."

 

            "Y-you took care of us?" Ichigo sniffed his tears back for an instant.

 

            Grimmjow smiled down at Ichigo reassuringly, “I told ya that I still have my morals. I took care of the both of ya. The way it was with the weather gone to shit I could move a hell of a lot faster than any cars. I tried to keep him from bleeding too much. I was his best chance and I promise ya that I really tried to save him.”

 

            Ichigo pulled back from Grimmjow to breathe on his own for a minute as he was processing what he heard. He’d stopped crying excessively, there were only tears dripping from his eyes now and again at very gradual intervals.

 

            The cerulean haired man placed a single hand on top of one of Ichigo’s. “Look, I didn't mean to deceive ya when I evaded sayin’ that he’d passed...I just didn't know how to tell ya otherwise when ya were already so fucked up from yesterday.” The man was mercifully trying to break up the bad news into amounts that his lover could handle. “I hate seeing ya like this…it’s the hardest damn thing.”

 

            Ichigo took a few minutes to calm down, breathing and not speaking while Grimmjow just sat there with him. He was so upset right now that it was just sickening as he started to accept his situation; Ichigo did feel nauseous with his soreness. “Which hospital did Renji go to?”

 

            “Actually it was that Ryuken guy's hospital, ya know…your friend with glasses…his dad. I didn’t plan that, Isshin just told me whose hospital it was after the fact. Nothin' weird is goin' on with their management apparently so it was a good place to go.”

 

            Ichigo looked Grimmjow up and down, “You walked in there…like you were?” As a horrifying black beast. While Ichigo couldn’t imagine that being the case…

 

            …it had been. “What else could I do? I couldn’t leave your friend on the front steps of a hospital with his injuries and the weather and I didn’t know how to change back.”

 

            “How the fuck did you even get anyone’s help? They weren’t scared of you?”

 

            Grimmjow scoffed and frowned, “Ya give me too much credit for non-scary articulation like I was… No, the hospital staff were all scared shitless, but when I got there and people panicked Ryuken was one of the folks who came down to deal with me. He saw ya in my arms too and your friend and when I handed Renji over I left immediately after with ya so that they couldn’t try to take ya too. You weren’t shot so…I didn’t really want to leave ya in the hospital. I’m sorry if that wasn’t the best choice but I figured your old man would know what to do… When I talked to Isshin after all of this I told him about what I’d seen happen and taking Renji to a hospital and bringing ya here but I conveniently left out the 'murdered some men with my bare hands' part."

 

            Ichigo exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Perhaps it was relief, but it was still a shaky breath out. “So my dad knew how I’d gotten here the whole time…” Ichigo shook his head, stupid. “He told me that I’d ‘mysteriously’ appeared here dressed for bed and tucked in.”

 

            Grimmjow’s tone was very sincere, “Well actually we worked together. We made ya comfortable after cleaning ya up a bit and treating your frostnip and the bump on your head. Isshin took care of givin’ ya an IV and some fluids and the bandages. I dressed ya and tucked ya into bed. And that was that for takin’ care of ya.” Grimmjow’s hand over Ichigo’s continued to idly rub over it, a comforting gesture. “He probably didn’t say anything so that ya wouldn’t freak out, probably to help ya keep calm yesterday.”

 

            Ichigo raced onto the next question his mind was holding onto, “You looked like a beast this _whole time_?”

 

            “Um, well there wasn’t much time for me to shift back and we had to take care of ya. I was careful around the house and didn’t break anything much or spook your little sisters or anything, honest. Isshin wanted to drive to get my body from the club after-”

 

            “What?!” That did not sound good at all; Ichigo was also confused as to what that was implying about Grimmjow’s bestial appearance and his human body.

 

            Grimmjow licked his lips and sighed, “It’s a little confusing… I remembered collapsing at work and mentioned it when your old man asked why I looked like a goddamn nightmare. It kind of led to us wondering and your dad calling the club and pretending to be interested in a lap dance and asking if I was in. He was fucking lucky that our bartender picked up the club phone and not my handler. If ya remember the barman with red hair, he helped us with this.” Szayel probably wouldn’t have disclosed anything to strangers and said ‘not available’ and hung up. Klayton on the other hand had asked more questions because it was weird that someone would just call and ask for a specific entertainer on the shittiest day of the year so far; he also had a genuine concern for Grimmjow’s wellbeing. Perhaps it was the fact that Grimmjow was good looking and a smooth talker who entertained the barman, a friendship of sorts, or perhaps it was just professional concern. Honestly Klayton might’ve wondered if it was Aizen at first, being very wary of the poor manner that Aizen treated Grimmjow and the lengths that prick would go to, but Isshin’s conversation had made things plain. The perfect proof was letting Grimmjow’s bestial self talk to Klayton through the phone. Grimm mentioned things to Klayton that only the two of them could remember from working together for so long and the bartender was shocked and convinced. The ever awesome Klayton explained everything about how they were handling his unconscious body after his collapse – which was still at the club. Grimmjow came up with the idea that he would pay the club a visit… Szayel had actually disappeared after the issue so Klayton, who was left in charge, turned a blind eye when a strange beast barged in conveniently after their phone call ended and rampaged through H.E.X. scaring all of the entertainers away and roughing up the bouncers. The beast didn’t harm anyone but it did send them running. Then it took the body out of Szayel’s office, breaking down several doors and destroying some fixtures in the process of finding it, and escaped into the swirling snowstorm outside. That was that. “So my barman pal told us that my body was still at H.E.X., however that’s possible…and I kind of stormed the castle and brought my body back here. I’m not sure why I separated from it to become that thing, but I know fuck-all about what’s happened to me in the past day so…”

 

            Ichigo exhaled with a long, stressed sigh. “Thanks for not letting my dad go and get your body… It would have been dangerous. Do you think this Sosuke will try hurting my family?”

 

            “I don’t know, I’m pretty sure that Aizen’s jealousy only applies to ya. Yesterday after I was back into my usual body your old man went out to see if Ryuken was doin' right by Renji and told me to stay here and watch ya and the girls. So I did. It was the least I could do in the aftermath. Yuzu is a really sweet one but Karin kinda kicked me in the leg...”

 

            “Funny, but off-topic,” Ichigo mentioned with a very faint smile.

 

            “Right. Well as ya noticed when ya woke up yesterday evening, Isshin came back here and he was totally fine, but he told me that Renji had passed. Ryuken had a lot of staff tryin' to save him but apparently there was just way too much blood loss and the ‘ballistic trauma’ he called it combined with the exposure to the weather was just too much for Renji to recover from. I didn’t get along with your friend but I’m really sorry that he died."

 

            Not tearing up anymore, Ichigo sighed and stayed quiet, staring downward and really settling with the facts now. “It really tears me up. Renji was trying to help me yesterday and I let him leave the shed on his own…”

 

            “Ichi, feeling guilty won’t help either of ya now. It’s all done. If he was shot on sight ya might have been shot that quickly too. Be glad that you’re alive and take whatever he was doing to help ya to heart. He clearly still cared about ya.” Renji had directly contributed to saving Ichigo’s life. If the redhead hadn’t gone out, Ichigo wouldn’t have known about a man with a gun nearby. If Renji hadn’t attacked Tosen, Ichigo might’ve been hurt badly. Renji had done a lot for his friend in his last hours; perhaps he’d even made up for all the conflict they’d had before.

 

            Grateful and realizing that Grimmjow was right Ichigo choked up a little and then nodded rigorously. He sat in sad contemplation, only looking back up when he thought he could handle looking into the beautiful blues of Grimmjow’s eyes again. “Your face…” Ichigo mumbled, realizing something. The young man lifted up a hand and gently brushed the tips of his fingers over where Isshin had slugged and bruised Grimmjow yesterday morning before all of the chaos. The bruise was gone. Completely gone. By touching the man he was kind of testing whether Grimm had any makeup on; there wasn’t any that Ichigo could feel.

 

            “What?” Grimmjow didn’t seem to remember but he did wonder why Ichigo was staring at him with a slightly amazed look on his face.

 

            With his arms tingling lightly Ichigo reached down and rigorously patted Grimmjow’s sides with both hands without explaining.

 

            The fingers prodding his sides made Grimmjow laugh and squirm, “Hey! What the fuck?!” he barked in a loud but amused tone of voice.

 

            “You’re totally fine…” Ichigo stared at Grimmjow’s clothed torso for another second before looking up with a little more amazement. “Your bruise and your ribs…they’re totally fine now…”

 

            “Ah…” Grimmjow blinked and realized for himself what Ichigo meant and patted himself down along the torso. They really didn’t hurt anymore. “Well shit.” He hadn’t noticed.

 

            “Take off your shirt.”

 

            “Eh?”

 

            “Just take it off…”

 

            Grimmjow shrugged and started pulling his shirt up over his head and tossing it off. The clothy garment landed on the end of Ichigo’s bed. “I’d swear I felt them at least a little yesterday.”

 

            Ichigo scooted up and smoothed his hand over Grimmjow’s right pec and the man’s shoulder on the same side. The gunshot scars were very faint. “What the hell..?”

 

            Grimmjow looked down at himself, “Eh?” As the young man was caressing over his fading scares he saw what Ichigo was seeing and it surprised him almost the same.

 

            “You didn’t notice this?”

 

            “No I… I didn’t.” Grimmjow ran his fingers over the faint scars too. They were barely there.

 

            “Monstrum Grimm…”

 

            “Stop calling me that…” Grimmjow complained.

 

            “Shut up. You’re my monster anyway,” Ichigo ordered, further inspecting the man by moving to look at Grimmjow’s back which meant that Ichigo had to get off of the bed and stand on the floor behind Grimmjow. His steps wobbled at first but he found his feet. Grimm tried to move and turn to see what Ichigo was up to but the young man stopped him from getting up. “Ah! No. Stay there.” Grimmjow folded his hands into his lap and obeyed. Turning his eyes down, Ichigo ran his hands over Grimmjow’s defined back muscles where the six stab wounds had been, the scars from which were extremely faint to his sighting now. “Oh my god…” Ichigo commented passively in slight amazement. They were so faint now! Perhaps moreso than even the gunshot ones. The skin was lowered and the pigmentation looked normal. Ichigo grabbed Grimmjow by the head.

 

            “Hey!” the blue haired man complained.

 

            “Sush!” Ichigo inspected the man further. The scar that had been on Grimm’s scalp was rather faded too and the shaved hair around it had grown in over top of the scar tissue by now. Further amazed, the young fellow knew that there were more marks on Grimm’s godly body that could be checked. Promptly Ichigo pulled Grimmjow off of the bed, the man let him do this, and then started undoing the front of Grimmjow’s pants. Grimmjow was a little more adverse to that sudden action.

 

            “Hey!” Grimmjow complained again and pushed Ichigo’s hands off. “Ya just slow down there pal… Ya shouldn’t be gettin’ all hot and bothered while you’re hurt.”

 

            “I’m not! I’m not taking off your pants for the reason you think, I want to see where the dog bit you. _All_ of your scars are fading unreasonably well! I didn’t even realize before this that the scars were so faint. And your recent injuries…it’s like they’re gone already.” Ichigo pointed down at Grimmjow’s pants. “Off.”

 

            Grimmjow offered a sassy scowl and finished undoing his pants, shimmying out of them with a swag that only a stripper could manage. That left him standing there wearing nothing but a thick banded jockstrap. Nice. Grimmjow put his hands on his hips. “Where’s your whip ya bossy-?”

 

            “Very funny…” Ichigo remarked cutting him off and crouching beside Grimmjow’s legs. The young man’s body tingled again. He felt of the skin where there were very faint marks on the man’s thigh. “This one’s almost gone like the rest.”

 

            Grimmjow looked down too, then turned his leg to look at the place where he’d been bitten while revisiting the barn to get his Lambo back. Also fading really fast…and that one hadn’t been cared for nearly as tediously as the others even, yet it was in just the same condition. Needless to say there was something unnatural at work here.

 

            Ichigo looked up at the rather bare man standing there in front of him as he stayed crouched and idly stroked his fingers against one of Grimmjow’s legs. “We need to know what you are…”

 

            The blued haired man shrugged, “Wouldn’t even know where to start.”

 

            Ichigo stood up, running his hands up Grimmjow’s body and rather unashamed like over the bulge on the front of the cloth jockstrap and up the slabs of muscle that made his lover’s torso so packed and sculpted. He couldn’t help it. The pleasant squish of flesh and skin over hard muscle… “Maybe it starts with your anatomy.”

 

            “Well…I guess.” The hands touching him did not feel bad, they were actually pretty welcome if not even arousing. “So that would mean..?”

 

            Ichigo was trying to think about this from basics to get to a good starting point. “You were given what you have at some point.”

 

            “Well I haven’t exactly made a pact with any hot demons…” Grimmjow was joking but in all honesty what could they rule out?

 

            “I know that you’re joking but there are other places to get strange powers from besides demons. This is all crazy but maybe there really is something supernatural at work. I’m willing to entertain the idea. There’s something definitely supernatural dwelling in you.”

 

            “Are ya tryin’ to say that I’m possessed? Because I’m pretty sure that possession feels horrible and I feel fine.”

 

            “Infused?” Ichigo offered in conjecture.

 

            “Well that could be it.”

 

            “Were you ever able to do this before?”

 

            “Ah…” Grimmjow ran through a few memories but he shook his head. Honestly he couldn’t recall this sort of phenomenon ever happening. “Never, so far as memory serves.”

 

            Ichigo thought long and hard for a minute or two. Maybe he was enjoying the distraction that unraveling Grimmjow’s mysterious self was turning into. “The thing about your hair being blue…”

 

            “Really..?” Now he felt like Ichigo was grasping at straws.

 

            “Sssh. Hear me out. _No one’s_ hair grows in blue. How long has your hair been like that?”

 

            “Um…since forever. It’s always been blue.” Grimmjow furrowed his blueish brows together and stared at Ichigo. “Like my pap’s only much lighter.”

 

            Ichigo’s eyes blinked open a bit wider, “Hold on, did your mother have blue hair too?”

 

            “No.”

 

            “Mmm…”

 

            “Ya thinkin’ it came from him?”

 

            “You know that’s what it seems like, and it’s the best clue we have so far. So why not follow it?”

 

            Why not? Well…unlike Ichigo with wonderful people surrounding him, Grimmjow did not exactly have happy history with his family. The exotic man looked visibly nervous about this.


	50. Sacrificio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: evil dudes plotting evil things

**Chapter Fifty**

_“Sacrificio”_

 

 

            Florentine City was the largest city for miles around. Karakura Town, where Ichigo's family was currently settled was hardly noteworthy beside the city's enormous economy and society. However, in a huge city there was a high amount of political and legislative control set into the stones under all people's feet. Persons like Grimmjow were lucky to have come from a family outside of the urban areas because they escaped some of this. Young people from Karakura like Ichigo knew little of the city's powerful clutch...and the true influence of the men and women who 'owned' it. However that couldn't entirely excuse anyone from the reach of the powerful. The big, rich, stockholding dogs of Florentine City...

 

 

            Aizen sat behind his long desk, hunched forward to sign papers in an endless stream. The paperwork on his desk had been piling up since he'd found other things to be preoccupied with. His gold-plated pen tapped and scratched along a line on the bottom of a document and then a pause as he examined his signature before flipping that paper over and stapling the lot of papers belonging to that particular document together. He was older, the reading glasses resting on his nose made it easier to read this damn tiny print. The document fell into a pile of others neatly and the brunette moved onto the next...well almost. Aizen's eyes looked up a moment, watching Gin light a cigarette on the opposite end of the huge office on a couch. The skinny, silver haired man was posted by the wood grained door. Gin wore an overcoat, even indoors. It was just that cold. It was a wonder to imagine what weapons were within... The dedicated few of Aizen's personal bodyguards, and there he sat like a hound, expectant of danger.

 

            Tosen... Ulquiorra. Yammy. Their deaths weighed on his thoughts. Gin exhaled a short cloud of smoke and looked toward the desk as he sensed the stare.

 

            "Are you worried?"

 

            Gin ashed his cigarette over a glass tray beside himself on the fine upholstered couch. "Nah."

 

            "Then why are you smoking indoors?"

 

            Aizen had caught him in a nervous habit. The question was answered with a sigh and a shake of his head. Gin settled, back to the couch staring at the closed office door. It was reinforced and opened with a code...what was he so wary for? Currently they were on the top floor of Florentine Central and this was supposed to be relaxing; Aizen's regular business office was secure.

 

            The brunette set down his pen and took off his reading glasses while still seated at the desk. The glasses were turned over and set on the next document he was to read through. Then the man leaned back in his comfortable chair, the thing tipped back a little as it was meant to for comfort. "You _are_ worried."

 

            Gin scoffed.

 

            "What are you so worried about? We're very far from anyone's reach under the circumstances and also far removed from suspicion." Aizen was totally confident in those facts. He had influence enough to get all of the protection they could ever use if an issue arose.

 

            "The bodies."

 

            Aizen rotated slightly in his chair. "Remarkable luck that they were moved so swiftly that law enforcement wasn't able to track them..." A trick that the man had pulled out of his sleeve by sending Gin in while the bodies were still fresh on the snow to zip them up and drive them off. The cops had been told that an ambulance had come but with Gin driving it alone he'd covertly loaded up the three dead men and all of their parts and driven off in the cover of the blizzard. "They are in a locked and secluded freezer under the building. Put them out of your mind, we can't be spending too much of our time concerned with them right now. That would create the suspicion I've so carefully tried to avoid. We'll deal with them in due course."

 

            This hyper-relaxed sort of response irritated Gin a bit. "Three armed men were mutilated without being shot and killed first. Consider that if you will, sir."

 

            "I've thought about it enough, Gin," Aizen's voice seemed to gain a slight growl and he leaned forward again with his forearms on the desk and hands folded as he stared across the desk's top and the surface of the office's flawless carpet toward Gin. "According to your information about the site where our men were taken out of play...there were signs of struggling and that means manpower was utilized. This relates to why you shouldn't worry. What do you think that means in this case?"

 

            Gin frowned, "Witnesses."

 

            "No, Gin. The awakening for what I've been holding out for. It's so amazing that authorities won't know what to think." Aizen lifted his hands in a hopeful, preachy sort of way before folding them again. "At any rate this unfortunate situation is the confirmation that this venture is extremely worthwhile..." Aizen's mouth turned up into a grin. "My beautiful Skiy is a bizarre vessel." He was musing to himself on that last note.

 

            It was a noteworthy effort not to shake his head in disagreement with his boss's obsessive plans for the strange cerulean haired man. Aizen marked Grimmjow like a gem, precious and coveted. Now that this troubling search had cost their people's lives Gin was wondering at what point would Aizen ever stop running to catch up if their exotic target continued to evade them. One such time playing catch up had to do with Grimmjow’s handler...Szayel. It was easy to walk into H.E.X. on a slow night just before closing and take a few men, Ulquiorra and Tosen, into the back to see Szayel while Yammy distracted the staff. A gun to the head and some vivid threats were all that had been needed to get pinky to disclose records to sniff out whom had taken control of Grimmjow's interest. Actually those records were almost worthless; Ichigo hadn't been officially documented as a client of his at any point. The next round of threats to Szayel demanded surveillance footage, and after extensive viewing Aizen's men saw...a tangerine haired boy sneaking off with the entertainer on several occasions - maybe even spying on him while he was preoccupied with Aizen. There were no cameras in the hall or the rooms in the back of H.E.X. to totally confirm spying though, but Ichigo was no doubt the boy they'd left on the side of the road beyond Faltsville one fateful night. The youth of this young man, as a clue, sent Aizen's team scrounging through schools' enrollment lists, and it wasn't long until they visited Karakura High months before this travesty to their team. Tosen had personally chased after a young man who looked like the one they'd seen on the footage when the kid had been spotted near the school building during non-school hours a while ago. He hadn't been able to catch him though. Gin waited for Aizen to say more, considering all of the shit that they had waded through so far...the brunette needed a damn good plan for this if he wasn't giving up.

 

            "Frightened little teenagers with frightened parents. I'm making contacts to get back into the school systems and monitor who doesn't attend Karakura. Within a couple of weeks or a month all of the parents with children who were not involved firsthand will have less fear and have let their little boys and girls go back, seeing as the last of the year is up and coming with exams. The pressure of those exams may or may not tempt that Kurosaki boy to return but I am mostly interested in who the hell else was out there that escaped before you got there Gin. As I'm certain that Kurosaki Ichigo was one of the escapees... It would have been impossible for a slight boy like him to cause us that much trouble and scuffle when he couldn't even defend himself at that podunk rundown gas station... Wasn't it Ulquiorra who nearly killed my Skiy on that early morning occasion?"

 

            "Stabbed him five or six times I think Tosen’s report said," Gin confirmed, well able to remember an angry Tosen attempting after that to have Ulquiorra dismissed for acting with no restraint.

 

            Aizen shook his head with a disappointed yet sated attitude. "That pale imbecile was probably the one to snap and go dogging after Kurosaki this time. You said the shed nearby was damaged?"

 

            "Yes. I assumed Kurosaki made a stand there."

 

            "On vengeance again no doubt...Ulquiorra…since we forbade him to lay another hand on my dear Skiy. Ulquiorra won't be missed. Old lovers can be so much trouble..."

 

            Gin tried to keep his finely suited boss on track, "We haven't talked to Szayel about these recent events yet."

 

            "It's alright I have taken care of him. He explained over a private phone call that Skiy collapsed and was taken to a different hospital in Karakura. Being that it isn't my hospital, and that I maintain no personal histories with Grimmjow, I'm unable to go in to see him without being questioned. I will wait until he is better and released to actually see whether Szayel was honest with me or not. I do hope my Skiy hasn't gotten any more scars... A chipped vase isn't as desirable you know." It would seem that Aizen's thoughts had drifted off into his loins or that fantasy world in which he pictured the exotic man as his and no one else's.

 

            Admittedly Grimmjow was attractive but there were other fish in the sea... Gin's partially open eyes trailed, noting the newer books on Aizen's shelves around the office, and he put out the cigarette on his dish. Ancient books sat on these, beautiful with goldish engraving and yellowed pages. Old texts. His boss had been acquiring more and more over the years, always having been a collector. Aizen paid a fortune to have them discreetly reinforced or restored. Once and a while Gin had been allowed to know things about their content: Ancient beings. Angels and devils and minions of gods. Mysticism and mythical things. Anyone who didn't read past the spines was really being misled about Aizen's, an owner of a hospital, non-medical interests. No one had ever noticed though.

 

            There was once a time when Aizen wasn't so entangled in fantasies and surreal books like these. Gin had known Aizen since college, the prestigious Florentine Psychology College of Enlightened Minds. They'd met in an unpopular class. Aizen was young for college but he was rather brilliant and Gin gained a respect for his hard studying despite natural intelligence that gave Aizen an advantage. The barely opened eyes of this silvery haired man watched Aizen rest in that office chair pleasantly daydreaming and scheming his sickening plans. In his younger years Aizen's fiendish streak was nonexistent, Gin recalled. The young man, Aizen, was only bent on becoming a counselor for the extremely mentally handicapped - his mother having died after a serious fight with dementia. It was his goal to help and study the most helpless types of people within the psychological world. Only...Aizen never made that goal a reality.

 

            Many years after his college studies began, the would-be psychologist was granted a visit with an asylum's ward. Under supervision and with a little guidance the interview with _‘that woman’_ would forever reshape what Aizen wanted out of the world as she poured a strange logic into his ears. No one else in the space of the interview, aside from that lady and he, realized the enlightenment being passed to a fascinated Aizen. An obsessive streak formed after this asylum visit with this woman, fascination mutated. Gin noticed it but no one else did so he told no one. Maybe his silence was intentionally respectful, or maybe Gin just didn't want to be called crazy.

 

            The obsessions which Aizen tried fleshing out began their jog out of the real world and into this fantastical sort. He had a hope that as a reward for his diligence and intelligence that he would get to meet omniscient beings. Otherworldly things. The interests he had to help the helpless all but vanished as a selfish search started. That was when Gin had stopped admiring him. With only the strong promise of a very well-paying job as Aizen's aged father passed away, Gin stayed near to the brunette. Aizen finished his education at FPCEM and accepted ownership of Florentine Central Hospital and the total wealth of his family inheritance... All of his dead mommy and daddy's stuff. Land. Stocks. Money. Influence. To this Aizen also added his deadly charisma; he was very adept at getting what he wanted among simpler minds. ...and it was with that change that Florentine city lost a respectable man and gained a detestable corruption with the exploitive son now in command of a lot of wealth. Wealth in Florentine was power.

 

            "I am not totally convinced that my Skiy wasn't involved in the murders at the school."

 

            Gin tapped his cigarette over the tray again, "What do you mean?" It seemed that his boss had snapped back to reality now, he was being looked at again. Aizen's stare wasn't his favorite thing in the world, that was certain.

 

            "A person like him who is possessed by the omniscient could do any number of extraordinary things and slip right back into society. We summoned the entity within him and it's supposed to be bound to us yet it wanders because the man whom its bound to is flighty." All of those dead girls, for years and years... An ongoing ritual of sacrifice to bring an intelligent guardian of the gate to the mortal plane. An omniscient one. A great being of terrible power and wonderful knowledge of the worlds. Aizen was deluded in thinking that those sacrifices had done it. That he was due his reward… The patient he'd been allowed to see so long ago had rambled of omniscient powers in men that should be purged and sent back into the realms they'd come from...by drowning. This woman, while intelligent, was extremely disturbed. Her explanations of the world had intelligence to them and had captured a naive Aizen's interests hugely. After years and years of slaying innocent people to grant his desire...Aizen had finally met Grimmjow, who wasn't actually a human possessed by his desired omniscient being, but the brunette was so smitten with that he figured this gravity on his lust and soul that pulled him to be attracted to Grimmjow was the sign that this man, or vessel, was indeed what he'd been searching for. "All we need is to do away with the resistant nature of Grimmjow and Skiy will cleave to us like kin."

 

            Calmly Gin took out another cigarette and placed it in his mouth. A lighter clicked. So the next event...

 

            "We'll control that whole Kurosaki family, and in the wake of that stress the emotional strain will bring this runaway vessel to his knees."

 

            "The omniscient can't see that comin'?" Gin asked, puffing over his cigarette.

 

            Aizen's expression gained a dark quality, "We'll find out if he notices in time, and if necessary Isshin Kurosaki has two daughters does he not? We'll sacrifice them for additional fortune."


	51. Flashback - Porcelain Tub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: violence - child abuse (if you’re sensitive you probably shouldn’t read this), angst

**Chapter Fifty-One**

_“Flashback – Porcelain Tub”_

 

 

            Grimmjow's family, the Jaegerjaquezes, was not always so broken.

 

            With himself usually neglected after a point, and fuzzy, unpleasant memories shifted to the back of his mind, Grimmjow’s family had suffered from a mother who'd slowly lost herself and a father who had adjacently lost his interest in life. Growing up, Grimmjow had tried to forget it all but wiping out his memory was too much of a task. The unusual cerulean haired son found out that on his own, alone, these facts were impossible to forget.

 

 _Replacing_ the foul memories though... Now _there_ was a solution that could one-day show merit.

 

            It was much mystery that shrouded the unpleasant downfall of this family, and like a poison, the unseen culprit wasn’t noticed until it was too late. As their ties died from strange heritage, the bonds of this family broke apart. ...but...where exactly had the first of this poison come from?

 

 

_[Grimmjow's early childhood: The Jaegerjaquez farmhouse, ten miles from Florentine City...]_

            In bed on a Sunday morning Grimmjow shifted in his covers and tried to stay asleep but it was already noon. There was a pounding at his bedroom door and that absolutely made it impossible to hold onto sleep any longer – though he’d tried. The fluffy headed child sat up in his creaky bed, pajamas askew, especially his little sleeping shirt. Two or three-inch-long blue hairs hung down in his eyes. He looked quite ruffled, always one to shift in his sleep. Sleepily Grimmjow looked around his room and eventually toward the bedroom door opened just a crack.

 

            His pap was there glaring at him through the half-inch space between the white paint-chipped door and the frame. A beady red look seemed to be in those eyes that were usually a perfect blue as he leered.

 

            Grimmjow didn't understand the stare, but it scared him. His pops didn't say anything, the son neither. Solid eye contact was made for a minute and then the dark shadow beyond the door's crack went away. The little boy sighed a tiny relieved sigh and started to finger-comb the fluffy mass of hair on his head, for what it was worth doing that had made it easier to see. Grimmjow’s eyes drifted to his bare feet as he stretched his legs off the edge of the bed. They looked pale today, like the worn wooden floor of his bedroom. He wiggled his toes to make sure they still worked. Of course they did! A yawn came by him and with a small smile as he looked around his mostly empty, but tidy, bedroom he did suppose it was time to be up...

 

            Grimmjow’s bedroom was extremely plain. No computer. A bookcase that was half full of fiction picture-books, young adult novels, and school texts was one thing in the room. A simple wooden chair in one corner by the only window in the room was another thing. Of course his simple metal frame bed with a foamy mattress was something too. Sadly, the pillow he laid his head on every night was soft but starting to lose its fluff, but he’d cleverly hidden a needle and coarse embroidery thread he’d found in a tool chest on their property within his room so that he could fix clothy things. Grimmjow considered himself lucky to have the blankets he did on that bed too; they were warm and the least worn-out thing he had. A closet full of dated and used clothing that he kept clean and sorted was a final thing to his room.

 

            The unpolished wooden floor felt scratchy on the soles of his feet, but the sun in his window was pleasant and more distracting to his senses. To wake up a little more, after getting off of his bed Grimmjow folded his blankets up and shoved them under the metal frame and mattress. There. Now they were put away, by a seven-year-old's standard. He moved across the floor and came to the bedroom door, opening it the rest of the way from his pap leaving it cracked. Peeking from his room, Grimmjow looked around, still holding onto the doorknob with one hand. The hallway out was a cold shade with closed doors and without windows but there was no one else lingering in the shadows. Quietly Grimmjow moved out of his room and turned the knob to close his door without a sound. It wasn’t outlandish to say that he really did not want his pap to come back upstairs. The son lumbered quietly to their little upstairs bathroom with a tiny yawn. Opening the door silently he was immediately startled by his mother standing in there. Belle seemed just as surprised to see Grimmjow as he was to see her, her eyes wide for a moment. Wearing just a simple flower-print dress she was a tall but beautiful woman. Past her long legs there were bare feet. Grimmjow's mother usually walked around with bare feet if she was not wearing heels. Her son smiled up at her and moved to the sink to brush his teeth as she painted her nails a dull cherry red over the sink.

 

            To one another they said nothing, it was a peaceful moment, Grimmjow leaned against her hip with a happiness that left him feeling secure. She patted the side of his head, sparing a moment with one of her hands. He liked her better. When his teeth were brushed the little boy leaned up to the sink to spat into it, turning on the water first…or at least he thought he could. No water came out of the sink. Grimmjow turned the faucet back and forth a couple of times and looked up at his mother. Belle shrugged and stared at the faucet. With a mouthful of toothpaste that tasted too minty for anyone’s liking Grimmjow scooted around her as she did what her son had been doing and turned the faucet’s knob back and forth. He approached the bathtub. With the curtain back the tub was full of water. Unsure if he should spit into the tub Grimmjow paused, confused and staring at the clear and still surface of the tub-water. The feeling of holding onto the toothpaste in his mouth was getting really unpleasant, he had to do something with it.

 

            In the next moment Grimmjow’s little form was shoved and he sputtered as an adult hand held his head and shoulders under the water. It took less than a second for him to start thrashing and struggling. He’d let go of the toothpaste with a bubbled scream and with opened eyes it stung. The water was cold and the son shoved his arms into the tub to try and push himself up to air as thrashing had done nothing to help. He choked and kicked and eventually a freakish black steam started to rise from his body and his skin started to turn the color of obsidian stone. He beat the bathtub with his fists and unexpectedly it shattered. Porcelain shards and freezing water went rushing out to cover the floor and the rush of it knocked his attacker off their feet and onto the bathroom’s tile. Grimmjow coughed and over the broken and jagged pieces of the tub dragged himself into the center of it seeking safety. He shivered and trembled. Turning around in his safe place he saw Belle on the floor with a hand pressed to her leg, bleeding. She’d fallen on a piece of the porcelain. “Let me save you..! I know I can! Just let me-”

 

            It was all Grimmjow could do not to cry at first when he saw her. His beautiful mother Belle was not now the sane and loving mother he’d known before this point. Was it a dream? As his father had come storming upstairs and grabbed her as she tried to come closer to the broken bathtub for her son… Was it a dream, the struggle for air and kicking around underwater? Grimmjow just stared with a slightly open mouth, drooling a little as he periodically coughed up tub-water. His hands supported himself from falling over, back leaned against the other long side of the tub. Watching his mother struggle with his father’s grip his unnatural eyes returned to dull blueish ones and fell to his little toothbrush on the ground in a puddle next to porcelain chunks and splashed blood. His feet scooted closer to himself and his toes curled in tightly.

 

            Her husband and her son... Monsters..! “I can save him! Let me save him!” Belle screamed as Grimmjow’s pap dragged her off and downstairs. The yelling and screaming could still be heard upstairs no doubt though. He couldn’t help his son right now, he had to deal with his wife.

 

            Unaware Grimmjow's blackish and seething form slowly started to fizzle out, its stay wasn't long and the young boy did not realize its presence at all. What did she mean ‘save him’? Save him from what?! Grimmjow’s eyes started to spot with tears and the child shakily stood and moved out of the bathtub he’d destroyed. Shock was still there in some amount but he turned to look at the tub with a hand thoughtfully touching a jagged top corner of the shattered side. He did that. It was the only unnatural thing that Grimmjow was aware of about himself. Standing in dripping pajamas that felt very heavy, he was at a point of realizing that this was reality and he was part of it.

 

            Thus, Belle went to a facility to live, taken by the police after her husband could not do anything for her. She never stopped screaming like a lunatic all the hours until they came. She was never allowed to go back to them or to be a part of normal society ever again.

 

            From the porch of the house the strange father watched his wife be removed from their lives as she screamed about devils and demons and salvation, and his heart went cold. Grimmjow was never treated the same by his father ever again save for one thing that his father told him as the son came out onto the porch as the police car and ambulance started to pull away from the house. The sound of tires on gravel and the muffled screams of the mostly restrained woman in the back was harrowing to both. “D’t fergit yer mother, blue. An’ when yer older, seek ‘r tome.” The rustling of the crops to either side of the gravel drive in the wind eliminated the raving and screaming muffled in the vehicles as they moved far enough away and turned onto the road ahead.

 

            The seven-year-old looked up at his father with furrowed brows. Grimmjow held onto his pap’s arm and stared with absolute confusion. He didn’t know at all what that meant. Then Grimmjow’s father pulled his arm away and went back into the house. The screen-door clacked shut loudly. The son stood turned around watching his pap move off through the metal screen and it seemed that a shade came over the father. The darkness of the shadows in the house grew dense and his form blurred with them. The man moved around a corner and was gone from sight, the sound of bottles in the kitchen clinking a short time later. Everything was different after this.

 

            This unique nature about Grimmjow, for the remainder of his days, would either cast him as evil and make his presence unbearable…or as sensational and make him inexplicably irresistible.

 

            ...but a child was a child, and this child was innocent and not evil. He had every desire to grow up better than he was raised and to treat people better than he was treated, even if it was hard. Memories as children grow up may get fuzzy, but with determination mature notions can remain – like this one of his. Grimmjow’s dark-blooded nature would not have his future, _he_ would be the one to command his future! Recently...when someone so close to him, their life flickering like a candle that was about to be blown out, his dark power returned. Calling that power to himself wasn’t actually intentional; his heart’s instinct had set his dark-will loose without conscious command. It _seemed_ that when life was a question, no matter the origin of Grimmjow’s power - even if the origin was evil, demonic, or fiendish, that this was someone whose heart knew the best use for his might was for infrequent but desperate situations. Still there was inconsistency in this mysterious phenomenon. Where had it been the night that Ichigo and he had fled the barn? What about the instances when Aizen humiliated, used, and abused him? …the time he’d been drugged and raped? _All_ incidents in the time _between_ his first sign of the dark-blood to recently were utterly devoid of the power. It had not come to help him. Why?

 

            Perhaps the origin of this power was the true giver and was only lending it out to the situations that it foresaw actually killing someone… Was the will of this power Grimmjow’s, or something else’s?

 

            Their farmhouse was never kept up with well in the years to come. Weeds took over. Wild animals roamed through broken fences. The livestock was sold, died on the land, or taken by the wildlife. The other buildings on the massive property were beaten by the weather and storage items coated in filth, dust, some hidden under tarps and left untouched for many, many years. The sole thing that slightly preserved this land and its prior residents’ possessions was the distance away from anyone else that it remained. There was no problem with thievery here on a property off of a road that barely existed on most maps. This strange family’s farmhouse…hidden by the tall weeds neglected to be cut down after that dark day…really looked the part of something wished to be forgotten.


	52. Snow Country

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: explicit sex

**Chapter Fifty-Two**

_“Snow Country”_

 

 

            Rumbling over uneven roads Ichigo’s Mazda6 passed over the partially snowy streets of Karakura with no issue, heading toward Florentine. The weather had been cold enough to leave some of the snow from that insane blizzard but otherwise much of the white stuff had been pushed aside by plows along main roads early this morning. It usually did not snow anywhere near this amount so early in the year. Winter weather was encroaching upon what was supposed to be fall. The Mazda6 was the car of choice today because well…Grimmjow’s pro-street worthy Lamborghini would unequivocally have had more trouble with these conditions – a sexy ride but impractical in the snow. Additionally the Mazda was _Ichigo’s_ car so the young man was taking the mature initiative to man his own ride.

 

            So Ichigo and Grimmjow were out the door on a _quest_ to search for clues about what might’ve happened to give Grimmjow such a terrifying form. The man himself had an idea or two, which unfortunately involved digging up his past. Feeling strange to not be the one in the driver’s seat but content on the passenger’s side Grimmjow's head was turned sideways staring out of the passenger’s window while he figuratively sat on his hands. The winter always made him feel so coolly sober. He’d never expressed that to anyone but the gentle slopes of snow and the cold temperature just extinguished some of the fire in his soul and made his mind clearer. He didn’t want to do this, scraping through history, _his_ history…but Ichigo’s wellbeing was at stake now so he felt it was required. Perhaps…he thought with some grave sobriety…perhaps the manifestations of his adult problems intermixing with the life of someone so much younger who was just starting out was the reason why it was generally so inappropriate for an adult to be involved with a teenager. Not because of the sex. Not because of their different manners of living. Nor because of their physical development… What trended problems seemed to be life catching up with Grimmjow and ricocheting back at him _and_ Ichigo – who was otherwise very undeserving of the stress. Grimmjow felt extremely guilty, and kept his doubts to himself. So this was what rules about age were warding against… For a long time he’d wondered if the warding and warnings were just because of the idea of perversion.

 

            Meanwhile, driving the car Ichigo simply wished that it could be autumn again. Technically the season hadn’t left yet, the weather had just gone to shit, but he liked autumn so much. Crisp fall air was refreshing, its colors were sensational, and going outside wasn't reason for needing three layers to keep warm. The winter blues didn’t affect Ichigo’s mood however, but Renji’s death weighed upon him heavily – the pain of loss over a friend. It was unbearable to imagine going to see what was left of Renji to pay respects, but Ichigo didn’t kid himself. As a good friend he knew that he should at some point. He really dreaded the idea of another funeral so soon, and this one would be even more personal. Ichigo lifted an arm and rubbed his slightly teary eyes. He tried to forget about having to go and see Renji’s corpse…

 

            Grimmjow, despite his distraction with his guilt and the snowy world outside of the car, took notice. The cerulean haired man turned the opposite way in his seat and examined Ichigo’s expression for a moment before speaking, “Do ya need anythin'?”

 

            “No,” Ichigo said politely. He was trying not to be needy. Both of his hands settled on the steering wheel of the moving car again with a light squeeze. He was not relaxed. His hazel eyes glanced at people outside shoveling, throwing snow, removing ice, scraping cars...all of that tedious wintry stuff. In attempt to distract himself from the thoughts that made him teary Ichigo considered the seasons again. Where was fall hiding under all of that? Just days ago there had been colored leaves on the trees and in yards and across sidewalks. Pumpkins and variable colors galore. Now the world was a uniform white. Perhaps the snow would melt soon and fall would reappear.

 

            The shortness of that answer ‘no’ was suspicious. He let Ichigo have a minute before asking something again, “Anything ya _want_ rather than need? We could stop for coffee…food…whatever you’re in the mood for I’m happy to get for ya.”

 

            Sounding anxious despite efforts not to, Ichigo's eyes didn't leave the road as he talked, “I’m totally fine, Grimm.”

 

            Maybe he would have to be plain to get Ichigo to vent. “I know that something’s wrong. Are ya still scared of me?” he had to wonder as the young man seemed distant.

 

            “It's not even that.” Ichigo huffed because clearly someone else was not going to drop the subject. “Your weird shit is really _alarming_ and all…but honestly I’m just…” The young man’s voice faltered and he had to start his statement over again. “I’m anxious about what’s to come.” Renji’s funeral… The truth about Grimmjow… Their relationship’s fate…

 

            “Why would ya-”

 

            “Just...try not to kill anyone else if you can help it... Death only begets death,” Ichigo cut in. He was still paying a remarkable amount of attention to his driving despite his anxiety and driving a manual car on a snowy day – talent and focus.

 

            Reminded bluntly of what he’d done that suggestion felt like a spike through his chest. Grimmjow closed his eyes and sighed out of his nose, settling into the passenger’s seat with more of a slump. “I’ll avoid what I can,” in a somber voice he made no perfect promises.

 

            That answer was difficult to hear while he wanted to think about anything but death. Feeling a little sad that he’d been so blunt to his lover who was already clearly having a hard time, Ichigo changed his mind about Grimmjow’s earlier offer and pulled into a right turning lane as soon as possible. “I could actually probably share a coffee with you,” he spoke up with a warming tone of voice. It cut straight through the chill of the mood and the wintery weather sobriety and sadness of loss. They still had each other, and they still cared about each other. “I don’t know if I could drink a whole one on my own but I’d like to share one with you.” With a smile Ichigo looked over at Grimmjow briefly as if to ask if his idea was ok. Ichigo found Grimmjow smiling warmly back; he quickly had reassurance.

 

            Hearing that simple acceptance to share a drink had warmed the exotic man up considerably. It stoked his soul on this, a very cold and foreboding day.

 

            Ichigo kept smiling back, helpless not to. He was genuinely glad. This all happened in moments and then his eyes were back on the road and he turned right and veered into a modest gas station with a convenient store attached that they would have otherwise passed by. Ichigo parked beside a gasoline pump, figuring that he might as well fill his Mazda6’s tank while they were here, then looked across the center console to find Grimmjow still watching him. “What?”

 

            Grimmjow shook his head and in rare fashion pulled his eyes shyly away. “It’s nothing…”

 

            “Alright… Well I’ll buy the gas, you buy the coffee.”

 

            Grimmjow’s mouth curved into a smart grin, “I wonder if they have condoms.”

 

            “Tch… Don’t even! We don’t have time for that today.” Said no sane man, _ever!_

 

 

_[Far out of Florentine City...]_

            They’d made it out of Florentine City without getting into a wreck on the snowy and icy streets. Not a lot of other people were driving so that was a boon. Now speeding along the same main highway which led in and out of Florentine, which Ichigo had been dumped on after their incident in Faltsville, at a whopping thirty-five miles an hour it was apparent that the wintery weather stretched out far past just the town of Karakura and the city of Florentine. The grey-white sky was out as far as one could see and the snow was just as much on the highway’s shoulders as the unplowed streets and sidewalks and yards they’d seen. Here on the highway though the friction of lots more cars traveling at uninterrupted speeds and chemicals with salt wore away the compacted white. While driving, they passed a singular coffee back and forth, drinking it slow. Presently Ichigo was holding onto their shared and half-full paper cup _comfortably_ as he drove the manual car. It was easier on the highway where less transition of gears was needed.

 

            Lulled by Ichigo’s smooth driving Grimmjow rested with his eyes closed and arms tightly around himself keeping cozy in the passenger’s seat for the most part. Gradually a satisfaction, maybe even a light arousal, took root in him over once again being driven down this highway by Ichigo. They weren’t screaming along at two-hundred plus miles an hour this time but this still felt good.

 

            Ichigo was keeping watch for the appropriate exit number which Grimmjow had told to him. Fuck these damn snow plastered signs… They were making it difficult. Ichigo remembered something he felt he should ask Grimm, “Hey I hate to bother you when you look so cozy over there but when you borrowed my car yesterday you left a duffle bag and some other stuff in here.”

 

            That was his work stuff. “Sorry…forgot to take them out when we got your car back to the house.”

 

            “It’s ok to leave stuff in my car…tempted as I was to rifle through the bag for your unmentionables.” Ichigo had a sense that he could probably just ask to see any unmentionables that the man owned and Grimmjow would eagerly take him on a tour of pleasures to show them off.

 

            “Ask me to see ‘em anytime ya want, I’ll even put ‘em on for ya.”

 

            Right on cue. Ichigo snickered; this libido driven man was hopeless, and if nothing else besides hopeless Grimmjow’s lewd commentary was predictable. “What if I told you that I was actually looking for where you hide all that stripper money?”

 

            Grimmjow smirked, the opportunity to milk humor out of this was knocking extremely loudly. “More like lookin’ for my dildos and vibrators, I’ve got your number…I know what you’re interested in. But the joke’s on ya…I don’t keep my toys in that bag.”

 

            “I’m sure you have too many for one bag,” Ichigo fired back.

 

            “Fuckin’ hardy har. I have a ‘toy chest’ and it’s not exactly somethin’ ya haul around. I thought _kids_ knew about those.”

 

            Ichigo blinked. “That is a _way_ different toy chest, and I’m _not_ a _kid_ anymore.”

 

            “Ok fine, mister adult. If you’re an adult ya have a stash of sex toys in your room somewhere.”

 

            “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

 

            “I would. Ya show me yours, I’ll show ya mine.”

 

            Ichigo fought with his expression to stay as straight-faced as possible. Frustratingly enough he couldn’t keep a perfectly straight face and grinned a little. “Alright… Alright! I really don’t have sex toys.”

 

            Grimmjow chuckled and stopped nagging the driver, satisfied with the response he’d goaded.

 

            “Your stuff, sex toys or not, won’t do you much good in the trunk. Remind me and we can drive to your apartment to drop it off.”

 

            “Uh huh.” ‘Apartment’. Hah… If only Ichigo knew… ‘Penthouse’ was the word. That residence was still a privilege for Grimmjow’s exemplary work with H.E.X. and he was going to continue to enjoy it while they paid for him to live there. That nice perk would certainly close out after he made a break with the strip club scene but he wouldn’t be homeless. Nope. That quaint studio apartment above his old boss’s garage was still his and definitely good enough; after all he’d lived there before the glitz of erotic and adult entertainment had swept him up and put him on a pedestal for the most part.

 

            “And thanks…for working on my car. I wouldn’t have any idea how to on my own. I should get a job to pay you for that…and everything else…” Ichigo lamented not having a real job besides helping around the house and occasionally their quiet family clinic. With Isshin working so often at the hospital their clinic wasn’t exactly thriving but at least bills were getting paid. He glanced at a snow flurry that went by the car harmlessly. Oh snowy day…

 

            Seeming to notice the snow kicking up a little himself, Grimmjow still paid more attention to Ichigo and shook his head, “Don’t worry about that right now. I can take care of your car and things until we’re out of this mess and then I’ll teach ya how to maintain it, I think you’re smart enough to learn mechanics. Then we’ll call it even. Ya get a job when ya feel ready, not because ya feel like ya have to pay back a debt back to me. Alright?”

 

            Ichigo smiled very softly. “Alright.”

 

            Grimmjow gestured for Ichigo to pass the coffee cup and when the young man did he warmed his bare hands around it. That felt nice, even in an already warm car, something so simple. Grimmjow himself wondered how he was going to manage on his own after leaving the stripping and prostitution scene; there was no way he could support Ichigo by himself, but Ichigo still had Isshin and a home to live in so the kid really did have some time. As for Grimm…Starrk’s garage, where Nnoitora worked, was probably a good idea. Thank god he had the skills to work elsewhere. He took a calm swallow from the edge of the cup drinking through the small hole intentionally poked in the lid. Roused from being lethargic the blue haired man had a question for Ichigo, “Is your body bothering ya at all?” He wanted to keep tabs on how Ichigo’s condition was, yesterday considered.

 

            “No, but these wraps under my clothes are,” the young man griped with a sudden growl about his tone. “I should have taken them off.”

 

            Grimmjow held down a chuckle, “I’m sorry. You can probably take them off once we get back. Do ya celebrate that costume holiday? Halloween or whatever it is.”

 

            Ichigo grumbled, “I’m not your mummy.” He knew where that was going before it had gotten there.

 

            Grimmjow snorted and promptly burst into a small fit of laughter. He’d been caught red-handed trying to make a bad joke.

 

            Ichigo grinned sharply and continued to watch the road as he drove with a shake of his head. What a hopeless man, Grimmjow…but Ichigo didn’t really mind.

 

            “Ya _stole_ my joke!” Grimmjow relaxed and leaned lethargically back into his seat again. “Suppose I have a ‘costume’ to wear too… ‘Monstrum Grimm’…”

 

            Ichigo blinked toward Grimmjow and shook his head, “I’m sorry for calling you that.”

 

            “Ya know it’s probably not far from the truth.”

 

            Ichigo swallowed roughly. It had just been a comparison to something he’d learned in school at first, but now it was a full-blown idea that his lover had taken to heart. “Not all monsters are evil nowadays.”

 

            Grimmjow grinned, trying to cover up his worries. “Ya sound like you’re two-hundred years old and you’ve been around more than one monster.”

 

            Ichigo attempted to put a positive spin on things, “I study them.”

 

            “Oh?” Grimmjow cocked his head toward Ichigo, sipping at the coffee.

 

            “Yeah. All sorts. And more than you’d think are misunderstood.” Ichigo glanced toward Grimmjow who was surprisingly seeming to hinge on his words. “It’s because they look scary sometimes but no one can see their hearts under all of that.”

 

            Grimmjow swallowed, willing to accept that as the truth. “So whaddya think of the monster, ‘Monstrum Grimm’?”

 

            Ichigo grinned, “I think it’s a man over a monster, who wants to protect everything he loves.”

 

            Grimmjow was actually still taking this discussion to heart because of what it meant past the fantastical dialogue. Looking away with a smile, feeling a little better about his strange issue for the time being, Grimmjow started to watch their surroundings again. Flurries and piles of snow on the shoulders, the lines from cars’ tired on the highway, chunks of dirty ice and snow kicking about – things like those. His blue eyes followed the snow piled up beside the highway and the massive fields of white over the flat distance of rural land spanning out to the right of the car. There really was so much of it, _everywhere_. It looked a lot more like Christmastime than approaching Halloween and that other fall holiday. Thanksgiving was it? He had a lot to be thankful for this year…and someone to celebrate holidays with. What a great thing. “Say…I think sometime this winter we should fuck out in the snow somewhere.”

 

            Shocked by that transition Ichigo’s face felt hotter. “W-Why would we have sex in freezing cold snow? I don’t think I could even keep an erection like that.”

 

            “‘Cause it would be hot and I’ve never tried it,” Grimmjow remarked with a smirk.

 

            “It would not be _hot_ , it would be _cold!_ Quite literally cold.”

 

            “Ya probably haven’t tried it either, huh? Ya never know if it’ll work until ya try it.”

 

            “You’ve always got some crazy ideas stomping around upstairs…”

 

            “Guilty as charged…I really can’t help it.” Grimmjow was actually proud of that dirty mind he had. The cozily layered man reclined more in the passenger’s seat and gestured across the console casually toward his driver. “What about ya? Ya have to have _somethin’_ dirty that ya fantasize about doin’ and haven’t tried before.”

 

            Still a little shocked by the change in topic Ichigo hesitated for a moment. “I do,” he admitted honestly.

 

            “What is it then?” After a few minutes of radio silence from Ichigo, Grimmjow prodded at him, “Too depraved for my ears to hear?”

 

            Hah…that was a laugh…’too depraved’? Certainly the exotic and cheeky man was kidding. “It’s _really_ …personal…” With his tongue in knots over this Ichigo was vague with a nervous flicker of his eyes toward Grimmjow and a low humming sound of reluctance.

 

            “Is it…something to do with a fetish?” he started guessing with a friendly tone of voice. Ichigo wasn’t going to get off the hook so easily.

 

            “I guess… K-Kind of.” Ichigo though was still being tight lipped because he had some modesty left!

 

            Taking that into consideration helped Grimmjow ask another question, “Is it actually depraved?”

 

            “No.” It didn’t seem like Ichigo minded being asked ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions, he answered faster, but his lips past that were pretty sealed about anything more going forward.

 

            Hmm… Grimmjow thought for a second. “Is it something that anyone could manage?”

 

            “Yes.” So far as he figured it was, if certain conditions were right.

 

            “Would ya do it with anybody?”

 

            “No.”

 

            That made the next question easy. “Does it have to do with me specifically?” Grimmjow asked, intrigue dripping from his sultry tone of voice.

 

            “Yes.” Ichigo chewed on his lower lip slightly, eyes still focused on the hazardous road.

 

            “Are ya ever gonna tell me what it is?” He was really trying to get Ichigo to tell him.

 

            “No.”

 

            Grimmjow scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Well…when ya do feel like tellin’ me maybe we can try it.” Trying harder… “By the way, ya need to take the next exit.” He’d been distracting the young man so he figured that it was fair to help keep Ichigo on track with their quest of sorts.

 

            “Shit.” Ichigo looked up for the sign to exit. There it was, half plastered with snow. Also…he didn’t remember GPS voices being so sexy.

 

            “Then turn left across the bridge over the highway and we’ll be driving straight for a long while. It’s all a relaxing, less hazardous of a cruise after we get off. I promise. Just watch for drifts.”

 

            Acknowledging this hurriedly Ichigo started taking lanes right away; he was just barely able to safely get around the other cars to their exit in time because of the snowy weather making other drivers difficult obstacles. The Mazda6 veered off on the exit ramp and stopped at a traffic light at the top of the ramp. Ichigo’s Mazda6, even with its all-weather tires that weren’t bald, had a little trouble on the ice under the snow and the vehicle slid just a bit but did stop safely. He’d tapped the brakes to see if they would be able to stop at all and with the help of the upslope of the ramp and pumping the brakes it had turned out ok. They were only a little crooked. “Whew…” Thank god for all-weather tires and mad braking skills.

 

            Even though Ichigo was good at this driving business Grimmjow could still tell that in the snow his companion was a bit nervous. He tried to be reassuring and made a half-cocked grin. “Hey, not bad.”

 

            Grimmjow’s reassurance actually worked on him. Glad that he hadn’t slid more Ichigo sighed and they waited for the light, it turned green soon enough. As he gave the Mazda some gas its tires spun for a second and he let off and quickly got back on the gas before the tires caught and they moved forward – a left-hand turn onto a ten-mile road…

 

            Grimmjow settled with the pleasure of coming to find out that Ichigo could handle a car in this weather. For some reason that motorist savviness continued to turn him on but he kept that gem to himself right now; the only obvious evidence was his persistent grin.

 

            From here out Ichigo had to use second gear to keep the car on the snowy and icy road. Plows had been through here once maybe and it wasn’t as clear as well traveled roads. When, after crossing the bridge over the highway, the pavement dropped off onto dirt and the traction changed Ichigo noticed immediately. He could hardly tell where they were exactly because of the snowy sky and distant flurries blocking features around them but he had a suspicion. “Are we headed into the backcountry or something?” Ichigo had correctly guessed that they were driving into a rural area.

 

            Grimmjow nodded, offering the unfinished coffee back to Ichigo. “Close. We’re only going ten miles up this road, it actually does go further into true backcountry but we’ll still be around another farm or two so it’s not really the backcountry.”

 

 _Only_ ten miles… Ten miles up this once plowed and barely used road was not a short distance. Ichigo was beginning to be glad that he’d fueled up. What if he hadn’t? Or was Grimmjow clever enough to know how much was in the tank of his car and thought they’d make it back just fine? Ichigo was pretty sure that he shouldn’t underestimate his lover’s ability to gage situations with vehicles.

 

            Grimmjow was quiet for a minute before he brought back their earlier conversation, “So I really want to know what your fantasy is, so how about we make a deal?”

 

            “Grimmjow I’m not going to fall for that.”

 

            “What’s there to fall for? It’s like a trade, completely fair, no fall to be taken. The deal is: if ya tell me what your fantasy is…” Grimmjow leaned on the center console and positioned his lips right beside Ichigo’s ear, “…I’ll make it come true.”

 

            Ichigo’s breath quivered; that was a good deal. “Don’t do that while I’m driving…”

 

            “Then pull over…” Grimmjow murmured, not moving away. When his lover didn’t reply Grimmjow kissed the side of Ichigo’s neck. They could both feel the car slow as Ichigo’s foot got lighter on the gas. Grimmjow set the coffee cup down in a cup-holder and kissed the side of Ichigo’s face with a tenderness, against his cheekbone. “Pull over…” He was clearly in a bit of a mood now…

 

            At least trying to keep them safe Ichigo shifted down to help slow the Mazda6 and did indeed pull off on the side of this country road as far as possible with a mind not to get stuck and put the manual car in ‘park’ and let it idle. They hadn’t seen anyone else traveling since their turn off on the highway and crossing over the bridge so no one would accidentally hit them on the side of the road he hoped. At the least it was unlikely. Ichigo turned toward Grimmjow and was immediately kissed ardently.

 

            While he kissed Ichigo, Grimmjow’s fingers slipped to the button for the car’s hazard lights and pushed it. He didn’t tease Ichigo about forgetting. Leaning into the kiss with a soft moan it lasted minutes, lips and tongues swapping back and forth warmly. It was pure heaven in the middle of snowy-nowhere…there was just nothing around.

 

            Breaking from the kiss and catching his breath Ichigo scanned Grimmjow’s clear blue eyes. “You’re so horny all of the sudden…” One of Ichigo’s hands fumbled at the dial for the heat control and turned the temperature up a couple notches. He’d glanced at the time on the dash and it was still morning; they had time, he supposed. The car had started to get a lot hotter…

 

            “You’re not?” Grimmjow heard zipping sounds and a few clinks just after he spoke.

 

            Ichigo had unzipped his own pants and unbuckled in an inviting gesture, his hazel eyes watched Grimmjow’s as he leaned back against his seat. “I am…and it’s your fault.” Pulling a lever under the driver’s seat it slid back a couple of inches and then Ichigo relaxed back again and moved his thighs apart, opening the crotch of his pants and sliding his thermal underwear down. Reaching under the garments as they slid lower he exposed his stiffening cock. It didn’t disturb the wrappings under his clothing much. Not taking his pants off completely helped his balls stay comfortable but still…thank hell that the car had quickly warmed up more with the heater cranked.

 

            Grimmjow didn’t even question the obvious invitation. He leaned over the middle console and put his face straight down in the lap presented. Not teasing the hell out of Ichigo this time he started to suck with warm lips and an even warmer mouth sliding up and down on the young man.

 

            Daring to relax and enjoy the fantastic blowjob starting up, Ichigo remained relaxed back without a care more in the world other than how good his dick and his balls felt and the appeal of who was making them feel so fucking good. He left a single hand on Grimmjow’s moving head, half touching the shaved side and half tangled through the soft brushed strands of longer hair. Sucking and never shirking… The handsome entertainer’s skill at this never disappointed. His engorged and pulsing member swelled to a full size as the mouth around it earned a full erection. “That’s it…”

 

            When the cock in his mouth was suitably erect Grimmjow would push the glans down his throat and swallow to squeeze with his tongue laving over Ichigo’s venous shaft…repeatedly. Not once did the man gag – as usual. He was not tantalizingly slow about it either.

 

            The sound of the Mazda6 idling quietly…the heater running…and Grimmjow eagerly sucking his cock were intermixed with sounds of heavy breathing. The intensity never faltered. Ichigo could feel some of the drool escaping Grimmjow’s lips running down his balls and he was helpless not to hold onto Grimmjow’s head and start to roll his hips upward.

 

            Adjusting to what Ichigo pleased to do to him, Grimmjow left his throat open for that cock to be stuffed in between upward pulls. He was careful about keeping his breath by breathing through his nose and holding it.

 

            “That’s it…keep going.” His balls eagerly pulled up toward his body, tensing and already wanting of release…but he wanted the pleasure to just continue to roll so he held onto the rising urge. Ichigo’s side of the car was starting to fog up the windows.

 

            Enjoying the face-fucking the blue haired man felt so relaxed, it was such a natural talent to keep this up that he could afford to relax and not give any less pleasure. What also helped him relax was the fact that he was doing it for Ichigo. His jaw was starting to ache only a little.

 

            Ichigo’s fingers through the man’s hair sometimes pulled on the long side and occasionally forced the mouth down on him faster. He was beginning to seem restlessly eager for more…

 

            Grimmjow pulled off with an unapologetically wet slurp and immediately lifted his face, taking the hint. “Do you want to fuck me?” he purred with a grin, licking the drool off of a corner of his mouth.

 

            Saliva coated and twitching his cock was still in need, Ichigo blinked in a lusty haze. “Heh… Yeah…” That actually sounded pretty damn good now that they were both hopelessly horny.

 

            “Mmm…” Grimmjow carefully started taking off some of his layers, all of the ones on his lower half save for his socks and all but the black sweatshirt on his upper half. He carefully climbed over the center console and straddled Ichigo’s lap, his full erection prodding at the young man’s clothed abdominals as he leaned in to kiss Ichigo. The kiss was as ardent as before, the warmth of their bodies shared on one side of the car made it almost sweltering over here though.

 

            Grimmjow’s forearms over his shoulders and the man’s fingers softly tangling in his short hair, massaging at his scalp and combing through the strands, was just so wonderful. Ichigo’s head tilted back just a bit, enough to meet the higher angle of where Grimm’s face was at. Gripping at first at the sides of the soft black sweater on his lover the young man savored the taste of himself on the exotic man’s lips. A salty and strong taste but combined with Grimmjow’s mouth’s natural one it was very pleasant. Ichigo slid his hands under Grimmjow’s sweater, up the front of his body, and lifted it up just a bit as he squeezed firmly slabs of muscle – Grimmjow’s pecs. Then Ichigo drug his hands down the length of that godly body, sliding to Grimmjow’s thighs and squeezed those rock-solid muscles. They were especially hard under the hands as Grimmjow was straddling him by kneeling on either side of the seat and holding his weight up like that. Everything about the firmness and smooth warmth of Grimmjow’s build, muscles and flesh was arousing. He was lucky to have this man so devoted to him. Ichigo didn’t take Grimmjow, in all his glory, for granted.

 

            Rather enjoying being felt up Grimmjow’s nerves prickled at the anticipation of what was coming. Ichigo wanted to fuck him so bad he could feel it in every gesture between them. That really turned him on. The man fumbled to blindly find Ichigo’s cock, not very hard as it was jutting up right below him. Stroking over it to see how slippery it still was Grimmjow found it was alright, the drool wasn’t an ideal lubricant so he kept stroking. Ichigo wasn’t the only one who really wanted to fuck. Grimmjow nerves writhed, nagging him to just get it in already.

 

            Ichigo felt dizzy with euphoria. He felt every single stroke in their pleasurable entirety with that skilled hand, and his lust stacked quickly. The friction got his member to gush a little bit of precum and, presumably once Grimmjow had felt that fluid, the man lowered himself.

 

            Aiming the rounded glans it penetrated his puckered hole without an issue. Grimmjow’s body knew what was good and relaxed enough to make that work.

 

            Breathless against the exotic man’s lips Ichigo asked, “It won’t bother me but you’ll be ok without lube?”

 

            With a grin Grimmjow nodded, “Yeah,” and went straight back to passionately kissing Ichigo. A little lubrication and experience to know to how to relax and take a half-lubed cock helped. Grimmjow’s body felt a spike of pleasure rush through it after the ridge of the glans was in and sliding upward with a pleasing girth to spread him. The man made a lustful sound of relief with his mouth still up close to Ichigo’s.

 

            Able to tell how happy Grimmjow was just to have a cock up his ass Ichigo groaned with pleasure into a kiss that he restarted. Sensation from the squeezing slide as Grimmjow rode him surged through his member in waves and made his balls pulsate just as much. The rest of Ichigo’s body prickled with the anticipation of more. Outside of the half-fogged up car the wind whipped some of the uncompacted snow in drifts around. It picked it up off of the fields and plains and blew in swirls toward the sky. The wind rocked the car a little, though not nearly as much as these two were bound to.

 

            Without a mind to keep things slow Grimmjow started to ride that engorged cock like he hadn’t had enough of it for a long time. Discomfort or whatever be damned, he wasn’t uncomfortable like this at all, and he was also experienced enough to keep himself from constricting too much and hurting either of them. The art in a good fuck was keeping it just tight enough for a good squeeze and giving your partner all the friction they could handle.

 

            Getting an ideal amount of pleasure out of this sudden upturn of pace Ichigo’s tense balls bounced around below and he reached to grab Grimmjow’s hips and started to pound upward into the man’s squeezing hole – harder the more Grimmjow rode him. He was very hungry for more. Surprisingly Ichigo felt Grimmjow buckling a little with the intensity of his enthusiasm. That was not usual… Ichigo watched Grimmjow’s expression for a moment as their kiss broke off a little because they were going at it too hard to maintain a proper kiss.

 

            The man looked like he didn’t have a mind. Grimm’s tongue’s end hung just at the edge of his partly open mouth and his eyes were closed most of the time; once and a while a particularly good thrust would make him blink and tilt his head just a little bit upward. Remarkable was the fact that his head hadn’t smacked into the tan interior’s roof yet.

 

            Ichigo took absolute control of their pace while fucking; it wasn’t easy to keep this going from under Grimmjow but Ichigo’s urge was powerfully spurring, sore back or not he wanted this right now. The waves of satisfaction…to watch Grimmjow’s nerves just melt…to claim the body of someone he loved. Grimmjow was _his_. No one else’s. _His_. There was an unabashed selfishness about it as he’d come to feel this way over time. Possessive.

 

            Being thoroughly pounded Grimmjow bumped the side of his forearm against the fogged-up glass of Ichigo’s side’s window in catching his balance and left a bare swipe of its fogged up inside exposed…until it quickly fogged over again. The shock of that chilly feeling of touching the glass made him shiver and tense for an instant.

 

            Ichigo pounded him through that tension with fervor. The young man’s fingers were depressed into the slight give that Grimmjow’s skin offered over the muscle of his hips. He had to keep a hold on Grimmjow’s hips to correctly aim his upward thrusts. The huge cock on his lover bounced in front of him, hitting him on the stomach and the man’s balls rubbed against the warm shirts he still wore. Ichigo could feel his wet and sloppy cock being wiped smooth over and over again as the hole around it gripped him so snug that any fluid on the outside was pushed down to his base. His balls felt soaked.

 

            The blue haired man continued to roll his body with the pounding and relinquished all control past that over to Ichigo. He pulled away from Ichigo’s mouth every now and again when they kissed to breathe or gasp but always came back to kissing him. “Oh…fuck…fuck me… Mmmm! Fuck me!” He was so vehemently attracted to this young man, he couldn’t help himself. It was never a wonder of whether his satisfaction was considered by Ichigo; he _knew_ that whether he got off mattered to the young man. Being considered felt nice.

 

            Ichigo grinned proudly as his lover begged and only clung tighter. It was quite a bit of fun to be in control of this man’s satisfaction… Ichigo spared a hand to stroke the drooling cock at Grimmjow’s groin. “Tell me again…” He gave a long stroke with a particularly firm grasp and played with the man’s glans as he continued to pound upward into the hole he was ravaging.

 

            “Fuck me!” Grimmjow had a forearm solidly placed on the door by the window and one hand on the driver’s seat over Ichigo’s shoulder. Some sweat careened down his sweater covered torso and ran over the round toned muscles of his spread thighs. It was _much_ warmer in here now, like fucking summer. There was something so great about this friction heating them up so much when it was so damn cold outside.

 

            Ichigo spared his one hand from Grimmjow’s hips for a moment and grabbed the man by the underside of his jaw and squared up their faces, nose to nose, even as he continued to pound. “I couldn’t hear you,” he teased darkly.

 

            Grimmjow’s face was a dazed one and he smothered Ichigo with forceful kiss before restating for the second time, “Fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me.” Just a few times so that Ichigo was sure to have heard him; he also ran his words together.

 

            Oh he’d heard him before, it was just fun to tease. Ichigo slid his shaft along the man’s prostate very directly…and more than once. His hand let go of Grimm’s jaw and held onto the hips over him again. With the other hand he also made sure that his finger was firmly pressing and sliding against the slit on the top of his lover’s hopelessly drooling member.

 

            It took only several seconds like that and Grimmjow just lost his nerve. That did it; Grimmjow’d hit his limit. A surge of heady pleasure rushed through his body and thick fluid spurted up around Ichigo’s depressed fingertip on his glans. When that finger moved Grimmjow’s cum heavily gushed covering Ichigo’s palm and between his fingers. The man’s body tightened significantly without his earlier expert control – forgotten in the true heat of the moment. It didn’t matter as much now, his hole and Ichigo’s cock were slippery enough. “Fuuuuck…” he breathed.

 

            “Nnn..!” Ichigo gave a strangled sound as the added tightness made the pleasure surge almost unbearably. One would think they couldn’t kick up the pace from that level of pounding…one would be wrong. In pursuit of his own climax now Ichigo dropped Grimmjow’s back against the top of the steering wheel and grabbed the dash as he messily kissed the man.

 

            Grimmjow’s hands clumsily came up at first to help hold Ichigo’s face for that kiss. He found himself so enamored with the rigorous sensation that his feet helping holding him up on the seat were almost too shaky to do so.

 

            Ichigo hammered into him hard enough to beep the car’s horn several times by fucking Grimm rigorously against the face of the steering wheel until he came. Rolling his hips against Grimmjow Ichigo unloaded and didn’t stop pumping his hips until he couldn’t feel an ounce of cum left in his pulsating balls. That was the definition of sexual satisfaction.

 

            Grimmjow’s head tilted back just a bit and his arms were hanging limply at his sides now as the intense pleasure took its time fading out. It could stay forever if it wanted…he’d welcome it. Shakily his mouth gaped to catch his breath. Holy fuck had that been good.

 

            In taking a moment to breathe Ichigo kissed the recovering man on the chin and without withdrawing his cock from the hole he’d been pounding leaned back. He noticed Grimmjow’s legs to either side of his lap were shaking ever so slightly. He raised his hazel eyes to watch the man’s sweater covered chest rise and fall…and the gorgeous slope of that godly body curved back in front of him…and Grimmjow’s relaxing cock covered in its cum hanging just below the bottom edge of that rich black sweater. Fuck that was attractive. “You’re something else…” the teenager cooed toward his breathlessly sated lover. He was proud that he’d satisfied this man enough to make his legs shake and knock the wind out of him.

 

            Still leaning back on the steering wheel, somehow avoiding honking the horn again, Grimmjow took better than a second to respond, needing to collect his thoughts from the brains Ichigo had just fucked out of him. “Speak for yourself…ya fucking horny-”

 

            “Name-calling isn’t nice you know,” Ichigo interjected, watching Grimmjow’s cock shrinking back to a flaccid size, dripping with cum. It looked good hanging just at the edge of the dark sweater. Really…reeeeeally attractive.

 

            Almost caught up of breath Grimmjow made a singular laughing sound, grinning. “You’re a real horny son of a bitch.” He swallowed once and straightened, finally leaning off of the steering wheel.

 

            With a bold stare and a streak for keeping control of this Ichigo watched Grimmjow with a daringly sharp eye. “You were the one yelling ‘fuck me’ the whole time.”

 

            Grimmjow licked his lips, right up in Ichigo’s face. “That’s right…what else?”

 

            “I wonder what would happen if I tied you up and periodically fucked you for an entire _day_ …”

 

            Grimmjow’s eyes didn’t relinquish their cockiness but he got awful quiet for a minute. His recollected thoughts were turning. “Is that your fantasy?” His clear blue eyes narrowed, and grinning he thought he’d figured Ichigo out.

 

            Ichigo grinned sharply. “Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ of that word.

 

            Straddling Ichigo on the seat again Grimmjow clicked his tongue disappointedly. If guessing that wrong was the only disappointment for today he was in good shape. “You’re stubborn,” he mentioned before raising himself off of Ichigo’s fluid slathered cock.

 

            A rather unplanned moan escaped Ichigo as his half-flaccid cock slipped out of the warmth of Grimmjow’s body and slapped down against his relaxed and slathered balls. Damn what a mess…

 

            Grimm climbed over the center console to the passenger’s side again.

 

            “Hey…don’t get cum on my seats…or I’ll punish you…”

 

            Grimmjow smiled, “Do not threaten me with a good time.”

 

            “I just did, so think on it,” Ichigo replied sternly, leaning around his seat and fumbling through extra clothes to get a towel that was folded up in the backseat. He tossed it in Grimmjow’s face.

 

            Already being careful not to let the semen in his ass mess up the nice tan interior of Ichigo’s Mazda, Grimmjow slid the towel under himself and started to clean up.

 

            Watching Grimmjow Ichigo figured, “I probably should have used a condom…” He passed the man a sealed water bottle from the backseat.

 

            Graciously accepting that water and cracking open the plastic bottle Grimmjow did not seem to be bothered. “I like it better when you don’t.” He took a brief swallow from the bottle before using some of the remaining water to help clean up.

 

            Ichigo observed with a relaxed gaze. He’d never understand that…but whatever made Grimmjow happy – even if it was a butt full of cum. Fine. Ichigo could still feel the potent after-sex satisfaction rolling over his nerves. He looked down at his fluid coated cock, lowering but still a little fat. They hadn’t really thought that one through; it had just started so fast. He’d even been the one to deny time for it, but that was before the fact and before they were quite hot and bothered. Wherever they were headed he hoped that it wasn’t going to be an issue. “I hope where we’re headed has an indoor bathroom.”

 

            “It does.” When he was finished wiping himself down, a bit of water on the towel helped cleanup a lot, and dried off Grimmjow handed the towel to Ichigo, turning it around to the unused half, who wiped himself off next. The ingenuity behind bringing a towel along was…pretty substantial. The man doubted that this kind of cleanup was the forethought that made Ichigo pack a towel but it sure was nice to have. The two of them were pulling up their layers and pants, rezipping and buckling their belts back up. “Anytime ya wanna fuck me like that again…my legs are wiiiide open,” the handsome blue haired fellow mentioned with a grin as he clicked the spokes through the two holes in his leather belt.

 

            Ichigo eyed him up and down and chuckled. “Yeah I’m sure. How about in your car next time?” he remarked with a smartass tone of voice.

 

            “Ya underestimate how much I value hot sex over my car’s interior. I’d be _happy_ to clean yours and my cum off of the seats.”

 

            Ichigo finished cleaning himself up and shook his head, smiling and scoffing a laugh while he dried his flaccid cock and balls; he’d used the water on the towel too. Hopeless…horny…man. It was actually pretty fun being around such an unfiltered individual.

 

            “So come clean already. What’s your fantasy?”

 

            “Tch. Grimm…”

 

            “Please. Remember what I offered? Ya should take my deal.” The man stayed on his side of the car but watched Ichigo’s expressions with those clear blue eyes of his. He wouldn’t miss a damn thing. “I really mean it. If ya have a fantasy about me I want to live it with ya.”

 

            Roughly pulling up his pants and thermals again, ignoring the wrapping under them that had been displaced, Ichigo considered his stance and gave up. Of all the things he had to hide this couldn’t be bad to share he supposed. With a roll of his eyes and his arms crossed as he was leaning back in the driver’s seat he explained, “My fantasy…would be to take your innocence.” Ichigo’s hazel eyes sincerely shifted and he stared into Grimmjow’s to prove that he meant it. “You know, like…being your first, taking your virginity in kind of an ideal way…maybe fucking you in white lace and soft silk on an overly cushy bed or something.” Maybe it was also the fact that they’d fucked which also loosened his tongue. “Maybe candles to light the room.” Ichigo shrugged, he was still a little embarrassed to share that very personal thought.

 

            “Fantasy thy flavor is _vanilla_ ,” Grimmjow teased with a grin.

 

            “Jeeze Grimm!” Ichigo blushed at the all too accurate call-out. “You can’t tease me about that! And you better not break that deal!”

 

            Grimmjow grinned to beat the band. “Hey, that’s actually kinda sweet.” His voice was warm with an inviting charm. “The only hitch is…that I’m about _the furthest_ thing from a virgin so I’m not sure how I can give ya my innocence.”

 

            “I know…I wouldn’t mind if it was just pretend.” Ichigo was thoroughly embarrassed to have said that all aloud, but it was also very much a compliment to have someone so interested in his erotic little fantasy.

 

            “And you’d want your virgin to wear something specific with silk and lace?”

 

            “I’m not picky…but white pumps would be a plus.” Ichigo had always been rather turned on by Grimmjow’s long legs, especially in heels.

 

            Why did everyone always want him to wear things that made him even taller?! He was quite tall naturally! It was just a humorous preference to boggle at; Grimmjow didn’t really mind it most of the time. “So a white outfit with silk and lace. White shoes- pumps specifically. White flowers? White garters and stockings? Either of those?” he added with a wonder of just how close to a honeymoon sort of scenario Ichigo wanted this to go, because that was the direction which it seemed to be headed.

 

            “I could go for flowers…and leggings with lace garters…” Now the wheels in Ichigo’s visual mind were really turning.

 

            This was pretty fucking creative. Grimmjow liked hearing about it. “Alright that’s actually the hottest fantasy I’ve ever heard.” He was already trying to curb planning how he might actually manage pretending to be a virgin in the most convincing way possible for Ichigo.

 

            Ichigo looked bashful, “What? There’s no way that’s true.”

 

            “No, it is, and it’s partially because you’re so genuine about what ya want…and also pretending to be a virgin on that scale is something I’ve _never_ done before. It’s exciting.”

 

            “Well you better start practicing being the perfect virgin because it’s not going to be easy convincing me.”

 

            “I will scare ya with my acting skills.” It was going to be hard, he already knew that but he was going to keep all of this in mind. He would make it happen for Ichigo, just like he’d said. A deal was a deal. Grimmjow’s blue eyes glanced at the still lit up dash of the running car. “Now that was a way to waste gasoline.”

 

            Ichigo was finishing righting his layers of clothing. “It was only like…fifteen minutes.”

 

            Grimmjow sank into the passenger’s seat. “Felt like longer than that…and I’m still in heaven.” There was still a significant after-sex satisfaction lingering with this man. He heard Ichigo chuckling just before the young man slid his seat forward again and buckled in. Ichigo realized he’d forgotten to put on his seatbelt this whole time! “Grimmjow…” the young man looked over at the man in the passenger’s seat. He knew how difficult Grimmjow was about those damn belts.

 

            Grimmjow looked over curiously and noted Ichigo holding the strap of his own seatbelt and watching him with eyes that silently said ‘please’.

 

            When Grimm didn’t move to put his on after clearly getting the hint Ichigo piped up, “They save more lives than they kill.”

 

            Rolling his tongue over his top row of teeth behind closed lips Grimmjow sighed and despite everything in his being saying ‘no’ he quickly pulled the belt from the side of the car’s interior and clicked its buckle into place. Then stubbornly crossed his arms with a vaguely irked smile, an odd expression

 

            Ichigo smiled and reached for the shifter and got the Mazda moving again. “Thank you,” he said after a minute.

 

            “It’s a one-time thing…don’t get used to it.”

 

            Ichigo continued to smiled softly. He’d get Grimmjow to be less prickly about seatbelts over time. It would certainly take time.

 

            The pair drove for another few of miles on this mostly straight and very snowy country road, it only got worse as they got further along, until they’d passed several mile markers that told of how far they’d gone. It was typical to have these in the country…not that they could read the actual numbers with snow plastered to the signs but it wasn’t hard to count them, and one of the car’s occupants was already familiar with where they were going. They kept driving until side streets that they could turn onto appeared off of the main road.

 

            Grimmjow felt himself swallow dryly. He could have taken another swig of water or the cold coffee in the cupholder but he was too transfixed by watching the cold world outside. He had a bad gut feeling about coming back here. He’d stayed away for years for a reason.

 

            Ichigo couldn’t have understood how Grimmjow felt about this place, he’d never had some of the experiences his lover had which contributed to making this so unnerving. As they got further into this rural area Ichigo could really feel civilization slipping away. A small amount of it only returned once they’d stopped in front of a long driveway that was too deep with snow to drive down in this kind of vehicle. There was a farmhouse, aged and under cared for beyond the long gravel drive, settled on a huge plot of land with other buildings on the same plot but in the distance. These further buildings were obscured mostly by the white and grey flurries and just looked like shadows. Hardly any trees that they could see grew around the land…actually nothing substantial really seemed to be growing here.

 

            The abandoned-looking farmhouse was on Grimmjow’s side and he sighed to look at it through the Mazda6’s window.

 

            Ichigo turned his head and observed Grimmjow before looking out too. The house and the shadows of other buildings were ominous to him but it was still light out so they weren’t so foreboding he supposed. He was starting to understand though… A neglected house way out in the middle of nowhere… His lover with a quiet demeanor…

 

            Grimmjow was where his younger self called ‘home’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> They had to bang in a car at some point.


	53. The Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: sexual themes, spooks, angst

**Chapter Fifty-Three**

_“The Arrival”_

 

 

            Past the driveway all piled up with deep snow that concealed frozen gravel, there was a farmhouse covered in and surrounded serenely by much the same white. It loomed before them. One of these persons gazing upon it felt cold for just looking…their reason was one other than the picturesque and surely freezing wintery blanket over its surface.

 

            Here before the property the snowbanks off to the sides of the road were just too high to drive over so the Mazda remained on the road. Already having parked and been given moments to gawk, Ichigo now looked once again toward the man beside him with a gradual shift of gaze, taking eyes away from the beautiful and ominous farmhouse. His lover seemed transfixed staring at it for the time being. Just to be certain of the significance of this property Ichigo figured that he should probably ask, “What is this place exactly?”

 

            The blue haired man responded without taking his scanning eyes away from the landscape outside of the Mazda’s rolled-up window. “My childhood. Family farm.”

 

            His godly dancer had grown up _here?_ It wasn’t off-putting so much as unexpected. This young man had a hard time imagining the whole transition from humble farmers’ son to erotic entertainer because it seemed like such an unusual shift and yet here Grimmjow was as proof. “Does anyone you know still live here?” The house looked pretty lonely but being vastly unfamiliar with rural living Ichigo was not sure; he blinked nervously as the Mazda6 idled on the road in park.

 

            “No.” Grimmjow’s eyes maintained a somber quality staring out of the window. “No one’s lived in this dead house for years.”

 

            He wanted to ask where Grimmjow’s parents were now but something told him that he shouldn’t. “So it was your home, you said-”

 

            “It was just a house to me.” As a child he had thought of it otherwise, not knowing anything different, but growing up he’d realized that the way that he’d thought of this place was not defining of a ‘home’. Grimmjow started to check his clothing to make sure that he was all tucked in and bundled well. He still didn’t have his coat on yet; it would have been too hot to wear it in the car all the way here.

 

            “I’m assuming there’s no heat in there, then…”

 

            “Best to assume not. There’s a fireplace but my pap was too lazy to ever chop wood for it. Doubt there’ll be anything proper or dry to burn around and even then, probably not worth trying to heat the place up.” The exotic man drew his attention up and took a basic flip-open cellphone out of a pants pocket and opened it to check the service it was receiving and the battery life. It had a full charge and a bar or two of service.

 

            Ichigo blinked at the device. “Since when do you have one of those?” He actually had a cellphone too…which he left in his room and never used.

 

            “Since we keep getting fucked by our ventures into the great and mysterious beyond.”

 

            “Of course…you have a good point.”

 

            “It’s for emergencies. Here.” He tried to offer the device to Ichigo after closing its flip-top.

 

            “Oh, you should hold onto it. That makes me feel safer.”

 

            Grimmjow frowned for an instant. “I’m more worried about ya than myself, it would make _me_ feel better if ya just took the damn thing and kept it in a pocket. So would ya? Please.”

 

            With a sigh the tangerine haired young man reached to remove the flip-phone from Grimmjow’s palm, inspecting to see how it worked. Basic phone was basic, just like his own. From the backseat of the car Ichigo drug up a red downy coat, lean but still with a bit of puff padding it, and placed the phone in a snapping hip pocket. The coat was long, to one’s mid-thigh, and that made for huge pockets! It was a great coat; one of his favorites. The young man started to put on the reddish downy coat which he so liked and after he had it situated on himself he was surprised by Grimmjow’s hands reaching over to zip him up.

 

            With a calmly focused set of eyes the cerulean haired man brought the zipper up to its neck, then he helped Ichigo snuggly wrap and tuck a plain grey scarf that the young man had brought. He didn’t want his companion, who’d been thrashed by the cold just a day ago, to have a brush with that again. Without it being choking, Grimmjow zipped the coat’s neck up a little more to help the scarf stay in place. Once Ichigo seemed in order the man patted his companion on the chest, a hand depressing the puffy coat once or twice in a funny way, and then reached into the backseat to get his own stuff. A black downy coat that came only to the waist and had leather lapels. It also zipped up the front but had a leather flap with snaps to cover the zipper and accents of more leather around the pockets.

 

            Ichigo noticed the details, he sincerely thought that Grimmjow looked sexy with leather on. Grinning to himself about how sexy his lover was, Ichigo smoothed down his red mid-thigh-length coat and took a plain dark grey beanie out of one of the pockets and pulled it onto his head. It covered up his tangerine hair and he started to tuck the strands in under the sides.

 

            Grimmjow was pulling on a black face-warmer that stayed around his neck for now; when pulled up it could cover a person’s neck up fully and up to the bottom of one’s eyes. He also pulled on a beanie, black and plain, and was tucking in his hair when he noticed Ichigo’s almost identical hat. “That’s…”

 

            Ichigo looked at the man staring at his head and smiled, “Yours. Or it was until you abandoned it with me.” On the day that Grimmjow had surprised Ichigo at his school and first met his friends this beanie had been stuffed on Ichigo’s head in jest.

 

            “Maybe it was an unannounced gift,” the blue haired man tried to counter.

 

            Now that was an excuse for forgetting if he’d ever heard one. Chuckling briefly Ichigo eyed Grimmjow’s black beanie-hatted head. “How many of these things do you even have?”

 

            Considering the dark grey one, the white one he’d worn when confronting Aizen with Nnoitora, this one that he had on and the bulk pack of twenty he’d gotten them out of…math on that said, “Nineteen if you’re keeping that one.”

 

            Ichigo’s face deadpanned comically; he hadn’t expected that literal of an answer. He suddenly felt no guilt for appropriating this plain but warm beanie.

 

            “Did ya know that a condom can be referred to as a ‘hat’? And as ya probably already know that ya can roll these beanies on too-”

 

            “Right.” On that note Ichigo turned the Mazda off and opened his driver’s door and got out quickly, promptly _slipping_ and falling over on his side next to the car. That was not a very smooth escape.

 

            Startled by the teenager’s clumsiness Grimmjow would have snickered about his joke’s effect but the fact that Ichigo had fallen immediately made that impossible. Grimmjow poised a hand on his door handle to jump out of the car and help…but Ichigo hauled himself up with a groan.

 

            “Ow… I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

 

            Wide eyed Grimmjow watched him for an instant, “Are ya sure..?”

 

            It would only be a sore hip or a bruise. “Yes I’m sure. I said don’t worry,” the young man grumbled with a barely restrained chuckle as he picked himself up. That was so _stupid_ , he should have watched where he stepped. “Aren’t you supposed to be brooding?”

 

            “I’ll brood later.” Smiling a little now that he knew Ichigo hadn’t hit his head or broken his ass or anything Grimmjow’s attention followed what the young man was up to next.

 

            Ichigo sorely shifted, closing the driver’s door and opening the rear door behind it to rifle through the few things that he’d brought along to help. They were in the backseat.

 

            Seeing Ichigo unpack stuff he figured there were a few things to be brought. “Anything I can carry?”

 

            Ichigo lifted a long-handled metal flashlight and held it out to Grimm.

 

            The incorrigible man shook his head. “Too phallic.”

 

            Ichigo tossed it to him anyway and the thing landed near Grimmjow’s lap just shy of tapping him on the crotch. “Well we’ll need it I’m sure.”

 

            Grimmjow had flinched as the heavy metallic flashlight hit him on the top of one thigh. Whew. It missed his sensitive crotch and he was fine. Picking up the flashlight the man turned it on and off several times to check that it worked. “How’d ya even get the idea to pack all of this stuff when ya didn’t know exactly where we were goin’?” The draft from the rear door being open was getting in, fortunately being bundled up meant it wasn’t felt very intensely.

 

            “There are just certain tools and things that have infinite uses. I also anticipated it…all things that we’ve dealt with considered.”

 

            Grimmjow was still amusing himself with the hefty long flashlight, “Ya watch a lot of thriller-adventure movies don’t ya?”

 

            “Are you patronizing me?”

 

            “Not at all,” and Grimmjow sounded sarcastic.

 

            Ichigo scoffed, “Jerk.”

 

            Supposing that was good logic Grimmjow held onto the flashlight, unable to fit it into any pockets, and waited for anything else. He was handed a pair of insulated black leather gloves, which were put on immediately, and then a modest switchblade, which went into his leather accented coat’s side pocket. There was a thought given to the fact that having one of these knives could be illegal but Grimmjow didn’t exactly care.

 

            Ichigo put on another pair of the same type of gloves, pocketed a small flashlight and another switchblade of the same sort that he’d given Grimmjow so that they both had one. Who knew what a knife would be good for out here but he didn’t doubt knives’ usefulness.

 

            By now Grimmjow was getting out of the Mazda6 and shut its door once he was standing beside it. The man stared somberly down the long driveway toward the farmhouse. The early afternoon light that was seriously hazed by the grey and white sky and wintery fog and snow was enough to give him an eyeful. He’d only ever come back here for the sake of his Lambo, never really to inspect the house or go through his parents’ things – probably mostly his by now.

 

            Over the roof of the Mazda the young tangerine haired man could see his lover staring at the farmhouse again with an absence of his usual mirth and moxie. What had happened here to rob Grimmjow of the joy of a childhood home? Ichigo shut up all of the doors to the car and locked it then he walked around and stood by Grimmjow and they both stared at the farmhouse in the distance against the grey-white sky of early afternoon. He was glad to have the insulating wraps under his clothes now; they helped his thermals in keeping him pleasantly warm. The scene was foreboding but from here also serene. “Why do these kinds of places always have such long driveways?”

 

            “This is much different than a city where space is limited. If ya live in the country ya don’t necessarily want to or hafta live right off of a main road when you’ve got land.”

 

            “Wouldn’t that make it hard to go to school and work?”

 

            “I don’t think it matters.” Grimmjow nodded for them to start walking ahead and together they tromped through the few inches of snow piled on top of the long driveway.

 

            While getting closer Ichigo’s eyes turned around them and he looked at the expanse of snow across the grand flat spots of the farmland. It was actually very beautiful and quite undisturbed. “I’ll bet it was fun to have so much space to run and play.”

 

            Grimmjow breathed a little harder as they got on, feeling just a bit of remnant soreness from their romp in the car. “Yeah I suppose it kept me busy.”

 

            Gasping without warning Ichigo reached out and grabbed Grimmjow’s arm tightly with a tug to stop the man. They _immediately_ stopped tromping through the deep snow.

 

            In alarm Grimmjow looked at Ichigo who was staring out into the fields beside the house. His gaze silently shot toward what Ichigo was watching. Deer. A group of four or five harmless deer were picking their way through the deep snow and nosing around for edible greens under the white. Slowly the animals picked their way away from the farmhouse seeming quite oblivious to the visiting humans; as far as they might be concerned, this land had been so quiet for so long that it was theirs. “Ya scared me…” Grimmjow whispered softly as the both of them stood very still and watched the animals.

 

            “I’m sorry,” Ichigo whispered back in suit, eyes transfixed by the scrawny legged but peacefully milling creatures. “I’ve just never seen- They’re just deer right?”

 

            “Yeah. I mean there’s different kinds of deer, but those are just your run of the mill common kind. White-tailed deer. See the white fur on their tails? It’s on their bellies too.”

 

            Ichigo gawked a little, he did see that. “That little one has spots…”

 

            “That’s a baby. Those go away when they get older.”

 

            “A fawn.”

 

            “Yeah,” Grimmjow smiled.

 

            Ichigo lifted his arm to point at the buck among the group and Grimmjow slowly pushed the young man’s limb down. Ichigo gave him a funny look.

 

            “You’ll spook ‘em.”

 

            “Oh.” He felt a little silly, of course that might. Thankfully the deer didn’t seem to have noticed as they wandered in an opposite direction. Ichigo was glad he hadn’t scared them off. “But that bigger one with the antlers is the only boy, right? Why does he have a harem following him?” Ichigo was assuming that the rest of the deer were females; he was actually right.

 

            Grimmjow chuckled very softly, “That’s actually an unusual herd. It’s usually females and fawns separate from the males, but it’s probably because of breeding season and the snow isolated them from other deer around here. There’ll be more of those spotty little ones all over fuckin’ place if the snow melts.”

 

            “What if the snow stays?”

 

            Grimmjow shrugged, “For a little while they’ll still be able to get at the plants buried under the snow. Grass, berries and what-have-ya. They’ll eat some nuts from trees too, and once that runs out they’ll chew bark off trees and burn through the fat in their bodies. They’re very adaptive critters.”

 

            “With an early snow won’t the fawns have more trouble?” Ichigo sounded vaguely worried.

 

            “Yeah, unfortunately. They don’t hibernate…however it might surprise ya that come a few months when spring arrives those antlers _fall off_ of the bucks.”

 

            Ichigo blinked once… _profoundly_. He did not know that. “I always thought that they got huge antlers because they have them forever and huge antlers mean they’re really old.”

 

            “There’s a little truth in that.” Grimmjow’s blue eyes had scarcely left the small group of deer that they were enjoying observing. It was fun to answer Ichigo’s questions and tell him things about creatures he knew well because he’d grown up with them in his backyard. “A buck’s age, testosterone levels and how well the velvet on their antlers can supply nutrients, basically how well they eat, that make their antlers big. A healthy mature buck means a big rack.”

 

            Ichigo chuckled to himself. It would be stupid to make a joke and ruin their moment with nature.

 

            “Which is the only time when it’s widely acceptable for a male to have bragging rights and a big rack outside of drag,” Grimmjow grinned, still watching the deer.

 

            Ichigo covered his mouth to laugh. Where he didn’t make a joke Grimmjow couldn’t help it. “Did you…ever have a thick country accent?” he asked when he took his hands down and stared at the exotic man, mostly watching Grimmjow’s blue eyes and the puff of the man’s warm breath. The question was called for because he could imagine Grimmjow discussing deer like this with an accent such as that.

 

            “Ya couldn’t tell?” Grimmjow teased in good humor, not trying to prove it. “Yeah, at a point when I was younger.”

 

            “Younger than me?” Ichigo poked.

 

            “Nah. About twenty. You’re still like eighteen?”

 

            “Nineteen,” Ichigo hissed. “Shame on you.”

 

            Grimmjow scoffed with a persistent grin, “Sorry. Ya can spank me later.”

 

            “Hmm. I will.” Now smiling to beat the band Ichigo looked back out to the white-tailed deer that were wandering further and further from them across the snowy fields. The poor deer had probably been really surprised by all of this snow and he hoped that they would find enough food and a warm place to sleep. Ichigo tugged Grimmjow’s arm to keep going. “What else lives out here?” he asked as they started to trudge through the snowy driveway again.

 

            The man obliged to tell him, “Umm…lots of wild rabbits, mice, red and grey foxes, coyotes, timber wolves, and those are only the ones on the ground. There are plenty of birds like grey and white-tailed hawks, sparrows, swallows and owls. Beyond the grey lining out there in the far distance is a small grove of trees where a lot of these critters prefer to live.”

 

            “That’s a lot of animals to remember.”

 

            Grimmjow chuckled softly, trying to make sure that Ichigo didn’t slip again. “Ya never forget the interestin’ animals that ya deal with on a farm.”

 

            “Why not?”

 

            “Ya just interact with ‘em a lot. Have to deal with them when you’re trying to maintain the land, huntin’ and just generally seeing them around all of the time. We actually shouldn’t be seeing those deer right now though.”

 

            “Oh? You said they didn’t hibernate. Do they flee from the cold?”

 

            “No, but they’re twilight dwellers, active at dusk, and they prefer those hours. I guess with all of the snow-haze blocking out the bright sun they don’t mind right now.”

 

            “They’re probably hungry too.”

 

            “Yeah. Ya would be too.”

 

            “But I _never_ want to eat tree bark… _Ever_.” Ichigo pulled the man’s arm closer to himself as they walked and smiled, feeling good. Grimmjow’s head sure was filled with wonderful things. In a way he hoped to experience enough to chatter on about in his upcoming years and experiences like Grimm could. It was a dreamy and glorious thought to be so mature. “Do you think there are any creatures hiding in the house?”

 

            “Perhaps.” Grimmjow minded his footing. “Just don’t pet any of them.”

 

            “I figured… Wild animals. Diseases.”

 

            “Exactly.”

 

            As they neared, the features of the abandoned house were clearer across its two stories. It was largely built out of some kind of dark timber. Some of the windows were shattered, none of them nor the doors were boarded up preemptively. There were also holes in some of the walls and on the porch, probably on the inside as well. The steep gable roof didn’t seem collapsed or damaged, but there was a good deal of snow covering it up. All of the wood was peeling with aged paint and primer that hadn’t been kept up with; this house might’ve once been white but you couldn’t tell there was so little left of the paint. Through broken window panes unbound curtains fluttered to the sides of the frames with the wintery wind blowing in. There was bound to be some snow inside and probably no warmth.

 

            “Would you tell me more things about your life here?” Ichigo stepped up onto the first steps of the porch, nudging snow off of the wood.

 

            “It’s-” Grimmjow went to step up the same but his heavier form broke right through the first step’s surface with a hollow creak and a snap. One foot fell straight through while the other went up to the next step and Grimmjow grabbed a nearby support beam to the porch’s roof and Ichigo for balance. “Aw shit…” It took Ichigo to help pull him up. Grimmjow shook splinters of wood off of his black snow boot.

 

            After chuckling a mild amount Ichigo huffed with relief and a visible puff of warm air. That noise had given him a bit of a start, today was starting to seem like surprise after surprise. “So? Going to tell me about your life?” Ichigo lingered beside the blue haired man, more or less waiting for direction Ichigo was inclined to follow Grimmjow now that they were about to go inside because the man knew this house and he did not.

 

            “Gimmie a sec.” Grimmjow opened the rather ruined screen door, left unlocked with a torn-out screen top to bottom, by depressing its latch and pulling the handle. It creaked open and the hinges flecked rust. He took hold of the sturdier wooden door that was behind it and tried turning the knob but this one wasn’t so open to them.

 

            Ichigo assumed by this that Grimmjow probably did not have a key. “Through a window?” Since the windows were broken they could maybe climb straight through.

 

            “No. You’ll get hurt.” Assuming that the glass would be hard to avoid, it would have been a wonder how they’d get in otherwise as Grimm really didn’t have the key but the man gripped the front door’s knob strongly and lifted up with some force. He pushed inward with a solid shove. With a dusty heave the swollen wooden door’s catchpoint was ripped out of the doorway and the door swung open. That damn catchpoint for the latch had always been pretty poorly done and only seemed to work because the door was paint chipped and swollen by the weather. Grimmjow reached around and turned the knob’s lock to its unlocked position

 

            Holding the screen door back Ichigo peered into the dim house past his lover’s arm with wary but curious hazel eyes. He could see a stairway immediately ahead and a large doorway leading to a room with a worn and ruined couch in it to the right. To the left there was a dining room with a table and chairs and a kitchen beyond that back into the house. There was hardly any furniture…or pictures on the walls…or anything like what Ichigo thought of when he considered a cozy farmhouse. Nothing to make this a cozy space to live. Perhaps he should have expected that, after seeing the ominous exterior.

 

            Standing on a frayed doormat just inside the house Grimmjow’s eyes scanned slowly around. Nothing had changed. Despite time and the weather infiltrating through busted windows…nothing was moved and this house felt no more or less than it ever had. He walked further in with care, the creak of old wood went wherever he stepped along the floors. When Ichigo followed him inside the screen door slammed closed behind them.

 

            They both jumped.

 

            Grimmjow shook off the surprise and Ichigo took a little longer to do so. It was still light enough in here to see without the flashlights yet thanks to the windows. The old house creaked and moaned, lonely and suffering neglect.

 

            Despite all of his layers to keep warm Ichigo’s face knew that it was just as cold in here as it had been out there if not more so. “Where did your parents go?” He finally asked.

 

            Grimmjow stared at their old dining table with a broad beam of cold light from an opposing window across its surface, two chairs were knocked over and one was still standing – pushed in. “My pap died. My crazy ma…who knows.”

 

            Ichigo saw an iciness in Grimmjow’s eyes; now he felt bad for asking. “Good things…I want to hear good things too.”

 

            “There is nothin’ good about my parents.”

 

            “Other things then…” Ichigo’s expression faltered into a long, confused gaze that was vaguely upset. Grimmjow had meant that. Every word. He didn’t like his parents, and it seemed that they might not have liked him very much either. This was so starkly different from the relationship Ichigo had with his own that it threw his mind a huge curveball to even consider such a cold family. In a moment or two he thought of something he might say but then held off mentioning it at all because Grimmjow started to walk away from him through the dining room and toward the kitchen. “D-Don’t go where I can’t see you…” Ichigo fretted, moving with quick steps to keep up. He eyed around to see if there were critters about but there was nothing, not even little squeaky mice chittering amongst themselves about the visiting humans…yet in the darker corners it wasn’t hard to imagine something’s beady red eyes watching them.

 

            Grimmjow seemed understanding and waited for Ichigo. He truly didn’t mean to be so distant, it’s just that this place got in his head and under his skin. It was really unpleasant to be going through this house again. Once into the kitchen Grimmjow started opening drawers, most of them were already empty, but it was clear that he was searching for something.

 

            Ichigo watched, wanting to help but unsure of what he could do and what he should or shouldn’t be touching. Peering at the drawers opened there were only a handful of tarnished utensils, some miscellaneous hardware like nails and a hammer, and one or two rags. There was nothing resting upon the counters… The stove was an old gas sort which looked sketchy as to whether it’d ever worked. There was also a small dusty mini fridge under some cabinets; its brand wasn’t even manufactured anymore. Ichigo ventured over toward the fridge and opened it up. Nothing on the shelves. He opened the lone bottom drawer and immediately recoiled, slamming into Grimmjow as he stumbled.

 

            Grimmjow caught the young man, moving his arm in front of the drawer he currently had open so that Ichigo couldn’t run into it. “Woah! Hey…calm down.” He could see what Ichigo was looking at…a huge dead mouse in the drawer. It was mostly bones.

 

            “Ugh…” Ichigo shuddered and wished he could sit outside and look at the deer some more. Those were critters he didn’t mind. He kicked the drawer closed with a booted foot and nudged the fridge shut. Seeming fine after that he dared open the cabinet that was over the fridge. Two plates and a dented skillet on the shelves – nothing else. Why was there next to nothing in this house? How had a family survived with only these neglected and sparse belongings? He had to imagine that things once looked nicer than this, not understanding what this family’s life had been like. Ichigo closed the cabinet with a sigh and turned around to continue watching Grimmjow who had gotten through most of the drawers. “There’s nothing here.”

 

            Grimmjow was still searching, scratching at the bottoms of drawers with his gloves’ fingertips. “We were pretty damn poor.”

 

            The young man had really never considered that based on how Grimmjow was now: an attractive man with nice clothing, a crazy sportscar and a presumably profitable job. So this was what actual poverty looked like? That was taking its time to sink in. He wanted to ask more, like what had spurred Grimmjow to leave and to flee this life with parents that he disliked, but it seemed that presently the blue haired man had found something in one of the drawers. Ichigo leaned in with interest as Grimmjow pried up the bottom of one of the drawers. “What is it?”

 

            Grimmjow sighed and shook his head. “There was supposed to be a key for the attic in here.”

 

            In a hidden compartment of a nonsuspicious drawer? How mysterious. “What’s up there worth hiding a key over?”

 

            “My pap told me to stay the fuck out of the attic for the longest time and I never had the stones to take this key before and look. Most of the shit around here is his anyway, but if someone tells ya to stay the fuck out of somewhere specific don’t ya think that’s suspicious enough for what they’re hiding to be valuable?” Hopefully the stuff in the attic wouldn’t be ruined by the weather and years of being unattended…

 

            “So you don’t know… What’s suspicious is how you knew where to look for that key…”

 

            “I saw him hide it in here a few times.” Grimmjow set the bottom of the drawer back down after shaking it to see if the key was stuck anywhere. There was no rattle or dislodged key. He slammed the drawer shut. “Great…” Grimm sighed.

 

            Ichigo pipped up with a guilty expression on his face. “We could always break the lock on the attic…”

 

            Grimmjow straightened and looked toward the young man with one brow up and a faint grin, “Since when did ya get so devious.”

 

            Ichigo grinned back, “It’s not a very devious an act for us to break into _your_ stuff when _you’ve_ misplaced the key. Your father’s gone and you said your mother is crazy. How crazy?”

 

            “Asylum crazy. Literally.”

 

            “If a spouse dies the property of the deceased goes to the surviving widow or widower unless deeded otherwise but it cannot be deeded or bestowed to the surviving widow or widower if they have a pending divorce, if they are proven to have debt exceeding fifty-thousand notes in all, if they are under criminal suspicion or conviction, and or if the surviving widow or widower is proven incompetent and unavailable to receive the sum of the property.” Ichigo sounded like he was reading off of a legal document…

 

            Grimmjow blinked. “That’s the exact law or something?”

 

            The teenager nodded with his eyes closed, extremely sure of himself. “Yep. Presiding federal ones.” Ichigo opened his eyes to give Grimmjow a sincere stare, “I learned about this stuff when my mother passed away.”

 

            Grimmjow’s thoughts hung in the air for a minute. The house creaked as the wind outside blew; likely the weight of the snow on the gable roof was causing the creaking to be as loud and noticeable as it was. He considered Ichigo’s situation. “I’m real sorry to make ya think about that.”

 

            Ichigo shook his head with a smile on his face, forcibly there but another person wouldn’t be able to tell. “I’m just glad to help. Properties that aren’t able to go to a widow or widower would be their offspring’s without need of contract under all of those same conditions. Yours. Just because you’re your father’s son and your mother would be mentally incompetent and unavailable whether she was deeded anything or not. Are you sure that your mother is absolutely asylum-crazy?”

 

            Snapped right back to his own reality and distracted from questioning Ichigo’s state of being right now Grimmjow lifted both brows and nodded in short bobs of his head. “Yeah… She would have been incompetent and under criminal conviction as ya put it.”

 

            Ichigo nodded, listening carefully. “And they didn’t have any debts?”

 

            “None. My mother paid off my pap’s debts, like this house and the land, when she married him. She was rich before all that.” Grimmjow shrugged. Nice of her…

 

            “Then as long as you fit those conditions at the time of your father’s death, anything owned by your father isn’t hers, it’s _yours_.” Ichigo smiled. “This whooooole scary-ass house and whatever he hid in the attic is all yours without contract.”

 

            Grimmjow was pretty damn glad that his hospital bills didn’t exist back then. “Well that explains why getting the Lamborghini title didn’t give me any trouble…”

 

            “Wait. That sportscar was _theirs..?_ ” A sportscar like _that_ had belonged to his poor parents? Why hadn’t they sold it to avoid a poor life? Extremely curious Ichigo didn’t ask outright, figuring that question was a little too invasive.

 

            Grimmjow shrugged, “Eh… It was my mother’s. The title got deeded to my pap when she went nuts then he died and I kind of appropriated the car after that. I saw it when I was little and thought about it on and off ever since.”

 

            Ichigo paused long, hazel eyes shifting as he considered that. Lucky, but also…why did Grimmjow’s mother give his father so much of her stuff? “When we get back you should request all of the legal documents to these things, Grimm. What if…there’s something deeded to you that you don’t know about-” The wind blew hard against the house and something on the upper floor fell over with a heart stopping ‘bang’. Ichigo jumped. There was another bang and then a howling sound. The young man shook his head, walking quickly out of the kitchen and toward the open front door. “Nope. Nope. Nope,” he repeated as he speed-walked. He was scared right now, he got as much of a bad feeling from this place as Grimmjow only he really didn’t have the thick skin to deal with right away.

 

            The exotic man called to Ichigo, “Hey! It’s ok!” Not that he hadn’t flinched at the abrupt sound too and felt unnerved by the howling but Ichigo was past reasonably freaked out. Grimmjow went after him as Ichigo walked out of the screen door. It slammed in Grimmjow’s face unintentionally, who narrowly avoided being hit with it. “Ichi!”

 

            Ichigo was tromping back through the snow down the driveway toward his car and heard the man calling his name but shook his head.

 

            “Ichi! It’s not gonna hurt ya! It’s just an old house! The wind’s blowing through it!”

 

            Continuing to ignore Grimmjow Ichigo looked around himself as he headed away from the farmhouse through the snowy drive. The deer were gone. He was sad that they were. He heard the screen door open even from a distance that was far back. He was almost at his car.

 

            “Are ya seriously doing this?!” Grimmjow called from the porch is disappointment.

 

            Ichigo finally turned around and pointed toward the farmhouse. “That house has something wrong with it!”

 

            “Yeah! It’s OLD! The wind blew over a fucking table or a chair!” Grimmjow shouted back, large puffs of breath in front of his face. “Please come back!” The man sighed, letting the ruined screen door slam shut behind himself as he walked to the edge of the porch.

 

            “NO WAY! Get the fuck over here! We’re _leaving!_ ” Ichigo continued the shouting.

 

            “Ya thought this was as important as I did! We should look around!”

 

            “That was before that house scared the shit out of me! Get your fit-ass over here! I said _we’re leaving!_ ” Ichigo tightened his hands in fists at his sides before whirling and stomping down snow until he got to the road and his car.

 

            “What happened to ‘this is important’?!” Grimmjow bellowed. They were lucky no one was around to hear them.

 

            Ichigo was by the driver’s side with the Mazda unlocked and his door open. He put a leather gloved hand on top of the edge of the door. “IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE I’M NOT FUCKING YOU FOR A _MONTH!_ ” That was how serious he was. He got into the car and slammed the door. In a moment Ichigo looked toward the house and saw Grimmjow shaking his head irritably and briskly stomping through the snow toward the car. Ichigo was shaking, not because he was cold but because he was afraid. If this stuff had belonged to another blue haired and unnatural man it was bound to be strange or weird even supernatural. He was absolutely scared to find out anything else.

 

            Grimmjow reached for the passenger’s door and pulled the handle, opening the door and looking in. He was extremely frustrated.

 

            Ichigo started the Mazda6’s engine. “I meant what I said. _Get in_ ,” he demanded, white knuckling the steering wheel and staring out at the hood through the windshield. It was hard to look Grimmjow in the face like this because he was basically giving up out of fear. Within seconds of being started the car shuddered and the engine randomly stopped cold. Ichigo’s eyes widened, “Oh my god no…” He cranked on the key, the starter whined but it did nothing. “No, no, no, no…” He started panicking.

 

            Grimmjow’s eyes were about as surprised looking as Ichigo’s as he momentarily stared at the hood of the Mazda. This was a really decent car and it had never seemed to have trouble in the cold before but Grimmjow was still ninety percent sure that was the source of the trouble – the cold. Many cars hated to work when the temperatures outside were low.

 

            What probably added to the level of panic was that Ichigo _knew_ for certain that his car didn’t have a history of struggling in winter weather. Getting a little bit frantic he was still trying to crank the key.

 

            “Ichi stop.” The teenager didn’t seem to hear him. What Ichigo was doing was going to kill the battery though. “ _Stop_ Ichigo,” Grimmjow reached across the car and grabbed the young man’s arm so that he took notice. Then Ichigo stopped and stared at Grimmjow who slowly let go of his arm.

 

            The orange haired young man looked super distressed but instead of yelling at the person who was trying to talk sense into him while he panicked he looked at Grimmjow with horribly sad eyes and asked, “Why’d it quit?”

 

            Calmly returning a gaze Grimmjow watched those eyes directly to be reassuring, “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.” He exhaled a plume of breath and smiled at Ichigo.

 

            Feeling just a little bit better in the moment Ichigo took in a shaky breath, realizing that if Grimmjow was calm he wanted to be calm too. The young man looked around for the hood’s latch and pulled it. There was a ‘thunk’ as it released.

 

            “When I point at you I want you to turn the key for three seconds and then let off. We’re trying not to kill the battery because we probably have no way to charge it.”

 

            “Ok…” Ichigo nodded defeatedly. This was so bad…he had a horrible feeling.

 

            Grimmjow closed the passenger’s door and walked around to the front and raised the hood, propping it up with the arm. He looked over the four-cylinder engine, its hoses, exhaust, and other components then pointed around the hood. He could tell Ichigo was listening when the key turned and the starter tried but nothing else. After a couple seconds it was clear that Ichigo had let off; it was nice to have help that listened exactly to what he said. The man sniffed around the engine compartment. He couldn’t smell fuel. He walked around to rear of the car.

 

            Ichigo watched Grimmjow move past and assumed the man needed to get in the trunk and popped that too. It was comical to watch Grimmjow jump away from the car for the second that the trunk popped and lifted. Oops. That wasn’t what the man outside had expected. Ichigo swallowed a chuckle, smiling though he was still pretty stressed out.

 

            Grimmjow exhaled a stream of hot air and looked up at the driver’s side of the car with a ‘why did you do that to me?’ forced smile. He wasn’t mad but damn… He could probably use a look in the trunk though while he was back here. He walked around and first smelled the tailpipe. No smell of gasoline. What the fuck? Had Ichigo’s car just suddenly decided it wanted to stop sucking fuel? It’s not like its tank was empty. A problem with the fuel pump, fuel filter or just the line maybe. He stood up and moved his duffle bag to the side in the trunk and as he’d thought there was only a star wrench for the tires, jumper cables and a hammer. Ichigo needed some tools… He’d take care of that when he could. Grimmjow took his duffle bag out of the trunk and closed it. Bringing the thing up to the rear driver’s side door he opened it and tossed the bag into the backseat. He shut that door and then opened Ichigo’s.

 

            “I didn’t mean to scare you,” was the first thing out of Ichigo’s mouth. “I’m sorry.”

 

            Grimmjow shook his head with a smile. “It’s ok.”

 

            “What’s wrong with the engine?”

 

            “Not the engine’s fault probably but it isn’t getting any fuel. Sometimes in winter fuel lines freeze or get water and ice in them that inhibits and blocks the supply lines, the fuel filter gets plugged up by crap, or your pump’s gone bad. Regardless I can’t do much more without tools.”

 

            “Oh…” Ichigo already knew that he had next to nothing in the trunk. He felt a little sheepish.

 

            “There are a sparse amount of tools around the property here-” Grimmjow was swiftly cutoff from speaking.

 

            “No… No way.”

 

            The exotic man nodded, figuring ahead of time that Ichigo would have an aversion to poking around his family’s old property. “Lemmie see that phone I gave ya.” He held out his hand.

 

            Reaching in his pocket Ichigo took out a damaged device, twisted on the hinges that flipped its screen up. Pretty dumbstruck by its sorry state the young man opened it instead of handing it over and tried to power the thing on but it wouldn’t turn on. “When I fell…” Ichigo realized then that he’d hit the ground on that side when he’d slipped. It had never dawned on him until now. Now he handed the phone to Grimmjow who tried to get it to work as well with no luck. Ichigo exhaled a long sigh of visibly cloudy breath. “Are we boned out in the middle of nowhere?” he asked rhetorically as he stared at the raised hood of the Mazda.

 

            “Apparently…” Grimmjow remarked with a frown as he closed the phone. No witty joke from him this time. “Ya realize that the tools around here are now our only shot of getting this fixed before dark?”

 

            Absolutely ignoring the fact that Grimmjow had just suggested the one thing that he was most opposed to Ichigo just refused to think about that. “I have to pee,” he remarked, kind of bullying Grimmjow out of the way to get out of the car.

 

            Watching distress manipulate a workable situation in his lover’s mind, Grimmjow sighed and rolled his eyes, backpedaling toward the hood to see if maybe he’d missed something about the condition of the car. The exotic man started identifying the different tubes and lines that were attached to the small engine block.

 

            “I don’t suppose there’s anywhere I can go?” Ichigo growled looking around and finding nowhere to hide so he could relieve himself.

 

            Without looking around the hood of the car Grimmjow remarked, “Next to the car’s as good as any place.”

 

            “You _cannot_ be serious.” Ichigo had already kind of given in because he had go so badly; he was unzipping and standing close to the car with his leather gloves off – set on top of the hood. He barely poked his dick out of his pants, not that there was much to poke out with serious turtle-dick going on as soon as it felt unforgivingly cold air. Fuck it was hard to start going like this. “The one goddamn thing I didn’t bring…” he complained as he pissed next to the car, “…was food.” After finishing he shook himself a few times and zipped up.

 

            In a few seconds Grimmjow shut the Mazda’s hood with a bang. He really couldn’t do anything else without those tools. “Look in my bag in the back.”

 

            “Huh? You brought food?” Ichigo croaked, opening the rear door and immediately unzipping the duffle bag.

 

            Grimmjow came around to the side of the car. He noticed that Ichigo had actually pissed the word ‘fuck’ vaguely in the mostly packed down snow and snorted with amusement. Funny kid. “Uh, yeah, but not really on purpose. I always keep a few energy bars and shit in there to eat at work. This time I never ate the food I packed for lunch when I borrowed your car and all, and it’s been damn cold so I bet it’s fine.” Considering that the world had been like a freezer for the past day-ish Grimmjow was actually right.

 

            Ichigo sighed with relief. Well at least they had one thing going for them.


	54. Tools of the Knowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: more spooks, characters acting cheeky

**Chapter Fifty-Four**

_“Tools of the Knowing”_

 

 

            After more pleading from Ichigo to do anything but walk around that property again Grimmjow was looking around the engine compartment of the Mazda6 again when Ichigo waltzed right up and peeked around at him. Grimm seemed notably focused, maybe even a little frustrated, it wasn’t as though he liked being stranded here either.

 

            Ichigo’s hands were tucked behind his back and his presence went almost unnoticed as he observed.

 

            When Grimmjow finally did realize that he was being observed, a slight shadow to his left, he looked up and immediately a lightly packed snowball hit him square on the forehead. The man’s limbs and body froze and he stared with an unblinking expression of sheer surprise straight forward – which was by default at Ichigo. For a second he was just unsure what to make of this. What had just hit him? In the next second when there were pieces of snow flecking off of the beanie that was covering his forehead he started to understand. Grimmjow straightened up gradually.

 

            A mischievous Ichigo chewed on his lower lip and backed around the hood of the car then slunk backwards to hide behind the trunk. He knew what he’d done…playful teenager that he was.

 

            With a smile that was barely edging into a grin Grimmjow didn’t go after Ichigo right away and wiped his leather gloves off in some snow and picked up two slightly packed handfuls of it from the side of the road where it was otherwise undisturbed. He glanced back at the Mazda6, looking for Ichigo.

 

            Ichigo had scooted to the right side of the trunk and now peeked around because it had been a minute since he’d committed his little prank and hid, a whole minute without repercussion. He wondered where Grimmjow was at. The young man barely peeked out from beside the trunk on the passenger’s side and a flying snowball broke into pieces against that side’s rear taillight. It showered his face with white snow and the teen retreated behind the trunk shaking his head. “This means war!” he croaked, rubbing all of the snow off.

 

            “Stick your head out again! I dare ya!” Grimmjow announced with a grin. He’d already made another snowball replacing the one he’d just thrown.

 

            Before this Ichigo didn’t know that Grimm had such dead-on good aim. That ball of white fluff could have hit him in the face if the man had wanted it to. There was unfortunately no clean snow good for the picking within an arm’s reach of the trunk so Ichigo peeked up over the top of the trunk to see if Grimmjow was distracted and he could maybe make a break for a place where he could get some ammo. NOPE. A snowball whizzed over his head as Ichigo quickly found Grimmjow staring at him from up by the hood and dropped down just in time to avoid getting pelted. The ball broke apart on a tire-track behind the Mazda as it sailed over the trunk and a few feet back. “You’re going to buy me a new nose when one of those hits me!”

 

            “Ya started it! You’re lucky I don’t pack ‘em hard enough to break your nose!”

 

            “But you throw them hard enough to!” Ichigo grunted, looking around mischievously. He had to find something to fight back with! Suddenly he had a kind of idea. He took the grey beanie off of his head and tossed it up in the air above the trunk.

 

            Grimmjow’s vivid eyes went up and he followed the beanie with interest only long enough to realize what Ichigo was doing. The teenager notably made a dive for the snow on the side of the road. Grimmjow hucked both snowballs in his hands and nailed Ichigo on the side of the head and the shoulder then reached for more snow. “AHA! Don’t even!”

 

            “BLEGH!” Ichigo flopped on the ground and spat out snow, shaking his head and the white flecks catching in his hair and scarf. That was cold!  He didn’t spare a second to locate Grimmjow and plunged his hands into the bank of snow and found that a generous amount, several times bigger than any handfuls, stuck together just enough to be lifted all together. Ichigo got nailed on the side of the head again in the meantime. He shook his snow flecked head. Just wait…

 

            Grimmjow was packing a second snowball to hit the kid again but when he looked up from making it Ichigo was running at him with a _torso-sized_ chunk of snow held up. “Ahhh! Don’t!” Grimmjow’s body reactively backpedaled by a few steps. Ichigo wouldn’t…

 

            Too late. Ichigo would! With two hands the young man hurled the massive chunk of snow and despite the fact that Grimmjow put his arms out in front of himself to stop it he got showered with snow chunks. When, from his standing back vantage, Ichigo noticed how absolutely covered in snow Grimmjow was he started to laugh. “Ahaha!”

 

            Grimmjow had frozen in place again and when Ichigo had started laughing he opened his previously squeezed shut eyes. There was snow _all_ over him! He shook his arms, legs and head, brushing it off of his torso before it could melt and seep into anything. “Ya little shit…” Not giving up he grabbed for more snow!

 

            “No you don’t!” Ichigo ran at Grimmjow, closing their distance, and wrapped his arms around the man from the front and hooked his hands behind Grimm’s back so that the man couldn’t throw anything.

 

            “Argh!” Grimmjow struggled with Ichigo as the young man struggled to restrain him. Ichigo’s smiling face was a blushing color across the cheeks especially. He wondered if that was from all of the snow or something else. Grimmjow stopped struggling so much and smirked down at the clamped-on teen. “Hey, where’s your hat?”

 

            Ichigo chuckled, opening his eyes and smiling ear to ear. “Left it behind! I didn’t have time to get it with you trying to nail me and all.” Relinquishing his restraining grip on Grimmjow, Ichigo turned to point out where he’d left the hat and suddenly froze because of something else entirely.

 

            “Heh heh. If only it would have worked- Hmm?” Grimmjow noticed Ichigo take a quivering breath and looked up, wondering what- There was a large deer across the field of the property standing by itself with a huge red luminescent rack grown out of its head; the eyes glimmered like little jewels. It was a good two hundred feet away at least. “What the…”

 

            “…hell,” Ichigo finished. He didn’t take his eyes off of the unnatural thing and his remaining arm clinging around Grimmjow loosened a little. “You’re…you’re seeing it too right?”

 

            “Yeah…” Grimmjow answered with a look of shock and he turned his head several ways to scan the land around them. There was nothing else unnatural that he could find so he looked back to the buck.

 

            “It’s looking right at us…” Ichigo mentioned with a shaky breath.

 

            “Do ya think it’s a…spirit or somethin’?” Grimmjow tried to guess.

 

            “I don’t know…” Ichigo mumbled softly. His hands quivered, maybe wanting to grab something stowed in his pocket.

 

 

_[Approximately the same time, Nnoitora and Nel are enjoying some time together…]_

            Relaxing in one of the nicest frozen treat shops around Karakura Town, as it had more comfortable businesses that were more ‘mom and pop’ shops rather than chain restaurants, Nnoitora leaned back in his chair at their tall table while staring out of the snow plastered windows. A cup of steaming coffee sat near his hand on the table, while his other arm was draped over the back of the equally tall chair. Since he was so tall his grey booted feet still touched the ground despite the type of place they’d chosen to sit.

 

            Nelliel squeaked delightedly as she was just starting to dig into a large bowl of multiflavored ice-cream. She took a huge spoonful of a lime-flavored mound of the frozen treat and popped it in her mouth. “Aaaah. They’re so good!” she exclaimed after it had melted over her tongue.

 

            Nnoitora’s eyes turned from the windows and he watched his delighted girlfriend, unable to help cracking a smile. “Why ya wan’ ice-cream on a fuckin’ col’ day like this ‘s jus’ beyond me toots…”

 

            In pretending to be Nnoitora talking Nel silently mocked the lanky man before taking another scoop with her long-handled spoon, making sure to gather up at least two flavors on it. Vanilla and chocolate. “Mmm!” She was an adorable vision in a warm all-white ski-suit type of outfit with an oversized clothy scarf hanging around her neck and a furry hood resting on her back. She had some white fluffy snow boots with stable heels on her feet to match. Always the heels…

 

            Compared to Nelliel’s insulated and trendy clothes Nnoitora just seemed to be wearing too little or at least something very basic. Jeans, thin thermals under them that no one would be able to notice, and a largely puffy grey hoodie over a short-sleeved shirt. It was fricking cold outside and he was a pretty lean guy but the cool temperatures weren’t a bother, and inside this treat shop it was quite warm. “Ya shoul’ lemmie git ya a coffee or somethin’ cause yer gonna freeze ou’ there wit’ all tha’ col’ shit in yer gut.”

 

            “I will not!” Nelliel protested, leaning toward him over her dessert with the empty spoon pointed. Her beautiful sea-green locks dangled dangerously close to the top of the ice-cream bowl.

 

            “Ya will!” Nnoitora pressed, trying to be jokingly scary. “From the inside ou’!”

 

            “Hmf!” Nel sat back in her chair, “At least I’ll never be an ice queen and you can take that to the bank, honey.” She’d closed her eyes as she’d spoken authoritatively and with absolute certainty. Once she’d made her point she cracked one of her lovely eyes open and stuck her tongue partway out from between her lips.

 

            Nnoitora smirked with a chuckle, “Maybe jus’ a sassy ice sculpture then.”

 

            “People would travel from all over to see the beautiful living ice woman!” she exclaimed with a gleeful tone of voice. “I would dance and I would sing and when someone I didn’t want to talk to came nearby I would just freeze and pretend like I couldn’t move until they left.”

 

            Nnoitora shook his head, amused with how far Nel had taken this idea. She was always enchanting and imaginative with a delightful sass to her like now. During this Nnoitora noticed a clock over the worker’s counter and vaguely remembered something about today. He had to reach in his hoodie’s pocket and take out his cell-phone. “’Scuse me a minute, toots. I’m lookin’ fer somethin’.”

 

            Nelliel shrugged as she wasn’t bothered by that and merrily went back to her tasty ice-cream. She was actually using the spoon to roll some of the cherries that had come with the different flavors around the scooped mounds.

 

            Nnoitora spent about a minute checking through his phone’s message inbox and found nothing new, but he was expecting to find something.

 

            Nel blinked up from her half-finished treat. “Are you ok?” To her Nnoitora looked perplexed.

 

            The lanky man sighed and turned his phone’s screen off. “I jus’ was hopin’ ta see a message back from Grimm. Implied tha’ ‘e’d maybe need my ‘elp wit’ somethin’.”

 

            Nelliel tried to swallow most of a spoonful of orange flavored ice-cream before speaking but wound up only being able to get down half of it before she spoke, “Help with what sort of something?” She did wonder if it was in regard to vehicles again.

 

            “‘E texted me a fuckin’ address fer a ‘ouse way the fuck ou’ the city an’ hasn’ said nothin’ back ta me since. Said iffen I didn’t ‘ear back from ‘im by righ’ ‘round this time tha’ somethin’ migh’ be wrong,” the lanky fellow explained. Hence the implication of needing help, not a direct request. It still had Nnoitora worried.

 

            Nel’s eyes got huge, “That’s so ominous.” She started to get down from her chair at the tall table.

 

            “Where d’ya think yer cute butt’s goin’?” Nnoitora verbally prodded as he’d noticed her shift.

 

            “We’re going to help him. Come on. You know that Grimmjow means what he says,” she said back, taking her ice-cream bowl off of the table. Even though she wasn’t done with it she felt like they needed to go.

 

            “I was gonna give it five more minutes ‘r so fer ya ta finish tha’…” Nnoitora grumped. “S’pose there’s nah chance’a leavin’ ya at ‘ome fer this possibly dangerous venture-”

 

            “ _No chance_ ,” Nel had shushed him quickly. “In five minutes something bad could happen! Let’s hurry.” She got a portable cup for the rest of her treat and Nnoitora wouldn’t let them leave without getting her a warm cup of coffee…which actually turned into three total cups of coffee because Nelliel insisted on having enough for Grimmjow and possibly Ichigo, if the young man had gone with him – they were always together it seemed. It barely took any time and they were out the door and hurrying to the Silverado. Nel had the coffee tray in-hand, including Nnoitora’s unfinished one, and put it on the hood while she opened her door.

 

            Nnoitora had Nel’s ice-cream and put it in a corner of the bed because it would stay frozen there. He jumped in the truck and turned the vehicle on before revisiting his phone. “I barely know where tha’ address is. ‘S a country road bu’ I dunno whether I’ve ever been ou’ there ‘r no’.”

 

            Settling in herself Nel had set the tray of coffees down on the truck’s floor and leaned to look at his phone too. “Well it definitely requires a trip on the highway to get out there. That’s the countryside around the city. I’ll look for a route while you get to the highway.” She gestured for Nnoitora to hand over his phone.

 

            “Ah, good thinkin’ toots. ‘Ere…yer welcome to look through all my porn while yer in there.” He’d tossed the device into her white-suited lap and made to back the truck out of its parked spot after checking for cars behind it.

 

            “There is no time for porn! We have a mission!” Plucking the device off of her lap Nel was already researching the address and a route to get there.

 

            In minutes they were buckled in and out on the road, heading toward the highway in search of whatever fucked up situation that Grimmjow was into now. Nnoitora was very focused on driving safely in the treacherous wintery conditions but he heard Nel gasp softly and had to ask, “Wha’s the matter wit’ ya?”

 

            “I forgot to pee before we left…” Nel sighed.

 

            Nnoitora started to say, “I can always pull into a-”

 

            Nel shook her head, “Absolutely not! I don’t have to go now but I should have at least tried and also…this house is the only one in this area for a mile or two.” Apparently she’d gotten a nice look at the address’s location. “This road in front of it is a country road that comes straight from an exit on the highway. There’s so much land out there! I wonder why Grimmjow would be in a place like that…are you sure that Grimmjow is the one who texted you?”

 

            The first thing to cross Nnoitora’s mind was that Grimmjow and Ichigo might be together out there and doing something risky again, but that didn’t necessarily have to be the truth. “I dunno. Bu’ we’re gonna find ou’.” It was too risky to ignore a text like this when his good friend Ichigo and Ichigo’s boy-toy Grimmjow had already been in severe trouble once, and who else could have possibly texted him?

 

 

_[Simultaneously at the Kurosaki residence…]_

            Isshin was sitting with his daughters watching a movie while drinking a warm brew on this incredibly cold day and considering how lucky he was that his little girls were alright after the kind of scare that had happened at Ichigo’s high school. It was one thing to have to worry about a teenager who was old enough to hit back if he was attacked and quite another to worry about two much smaller children. _‘Masaki protect us…’_ he thought silently. His wife was a wonderful woman and he wished that she could have been here now to tell him that everything would be fine, that allowing Ichigo to go out with Grimmjow today was alright, that he as a father would definitely be able to protect and provide for his family after learning some of the horrors of the management at his profitable job. Maybe it was time to fully reopen his personal clinic and only work from home..? Here…where he could watch out for his family more closely and spend more time with them.

 

            Ichigo had left with something that Isshin had just had a mind to give him. A book of magick and mystical notation observed in their world. There was a reason that Isshin was not scared senseless by Grimmjow’s unnatural form and that reason was because when his wife was alive she had shared a life with him that was as mystical as it was romantic. This was her book. Masaki had been able to see where others could not see, divine what others could not imagine and she lived in magick and compassion. He truly believed that her loving spirit protected this house; the warmth that he’d known to be around whenever she was near had never left this place.

 

            Karin cheered at the television.

 

            Yuzu clung tightly to her father’s shirt and squealed.

 

            Isshin snapped back to the moment and refocused on the animated movie. He smiled and hugged both of his arms around his daughters reacting to the characters fending off a large mech tank. “YEAH! GET ‘EM!”

 

            “YEAH!” both of the girls cheered with him.

 

 

_[The same time at Grimmjow’s childhood house’s location…]_

            The buck still stared from afar… Ichigo’s eyes widened, he pulled a worn book from a deep pocket in his thigh-length red downy coat. The book’s pages crinkled as it opened and he started to search for the right section and page.

 

            Grimmjow wondered what Ichigo was doing, he looked down as they’d stayed where they were.

 

            Ichigo found the section and a page with descriptions of sudden manifestations. “‘If the beheld creature or being should take the form of something you or your fellows know it is a spirit and ally of yours and should be trusted. Beware that if the manifestation appears on tortured soil it may be corrupt and seek to harm thee despite its actual nature.’”

 

            “What the hell is this?” Grimmjow croaked, listening to Ichigo read.

 

            “It’s my mother’s book on magick and things not normal,” Ichigo looked at Grimmjow. The both of them weren’t paying attention strictly to the deer anymore. “Ssshh though. Let me read the rest.” Ichigo’s eyes went back down to the book, “For guidance it says to follow the manifestation.”

 

            “Follow it?! How do we even know that this thing’s a manifestation?!” Grimmjow croaked. He looked up to find the deer again and jumped, grabbing Ichigo by the arms and pulling him a few hurried steps backwards. The red antlered deer was at the end of the drive, very near them now and it stared from where it was. The energy-like trail of red color in its antlers seemed alive. The deer itself looked healthy and its glinting reddish eyes were watching them.

 

            Ichigo had looked up too, “Aaah!” For a few terrified seconds they stayed still and no one moved. “It’s not coming to get us…” Ichigo looked back down at the book, “You watch it I’ll read.”

 

            Grimmow swallowed dryly and shakily nodded his head, not taking his eyes off of the massive buck. “Uuuh, ok.”

 

            “‘The manifestation will be confined to the area in which it has significance and may change shape more than once.’ Huh. That’s all it says here.” Ichigo looked back up. The unnatural buck was still at the end of the drive. “Suppose it can’t leave your property. It seems confined otherwise it would have run into us, don’t you think?”

 

            He was glad if that was the case but Grimmjow looked as freaked out as Ichigo did. “I don’t actually know what to think about this and I wouldn’t complain about it being confined to the yard but we can’t exactly get the hell out of here or do anything we aimed to do without going back on that damned property.”

 

            “We’ll have to figure out if its friendly or not then,” Ichigo suggested. He seemed like he was willing to take steps forward to meet the deer but Grimmjow held him back. “Grimm, let me go!”

 

            “I’ll do it,” Grimmjow shook his head down at Ichigo, “I’m not gonna let ya get hurt on my account again. Ya understand?” He let Ichigo go and walked past the young man who looked a little relieved that he didn’t have to do this but still concerned for his lover’s sake.

 

            “Wait, Grimmjow look… There aren’t any prints…” Ichigo pointed at the buck and the way it would have come over to them. Even where it was standing the legs and hooves merely looked phased into the snow.

 

            Oh great. That ghastly fact didn’t help his nerves any. When Grimmjow was near-ish where the deer stood at the front of the drive he asked over a shoulder, “What else does it say about guidance from these, or finding out if it wants to kill us or not?” The deer flared its nostrils with heated breath at the man nearing it.

 

            Ichigo started to flip to other pages in the same section. “Touch it.”

 

            “Seriously?!” Grimmjow was half complaining and half- Well no, he was actually completely complaining.

 

            “That’s what other pages are telling me about manifestations that appear helpful and friendly. If they’re good they’ll let you touch them.”

 

            “You’re sure that’s right?” Grimmjow questioned. ‘If’ was not a word he liked in this situation.

 

            “Yes.” Ichigo was rereading the places he saw mentioning touching goodly manifestations for more useful details.

 

            Grimmjow’s expression looked strained. Why did it have to be something like that? While behind him Ichigo held his breath the man shakily raised a gloved hand as to place it on the buck. His fingers and his arm shook. Who wouldn’t be afraid to do something like this?


	55. Blood Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: bloodbloodbloodbloodBLOOD (if you cannot handle blood this chapter is not for you!), angst, pain, magic(k) shiz

**Chapter Fifty-Five**

_“Blood Trial”_

 

 

            So with a text from an unknown phone Grimmjow had informed Nnoitora vaguely of where he was going out in the wasteland of country that was outside of Florentine. No details. No explanation. Not even the fact that Ichigo was there with him. Nothing more than an address…but Nnoitora and Nel were coming to them regardless…and what exactly would they find?

 

 

            The rippling light of the unearthly glowing red in the buck’s antlers moved like water. It was hard not to stare at their mesmerizing light and focus on where his hand was going. For the sake of their situation Grimmjow tried to be focused.

 

            Ichigo held his breath, watching nervously.

 

            The only encouraging thing that made the man continue to move his hand toward the buck was probably the fact that it bowed his head as he neared, seemingly allowing what was coming to be. Grimmjow’s shaking hand rested on the solid head of the red racked buck with a quivered breath outward that blew steam in a plume from his mouth. _‘Oh god…’_ Grimmjow’s thoughts shivered, but he was fine…he was actually fine. The spread of his fingers to the placement of his palm against the buck’s head between the antlers was easy and fitted. There was no pain nor bad reaction. “Ok Ichi… What else does your ma’s magick book say?” he was almost afraid to ask though, this seemed like step one of a very questionable trial. As Grimmjow waited he looked down. The buck stood not an inch further than the end of the drive, its legs were also phased through the snow – not imprinting it. What a strange creature- err, manifestation. That’s what Ichigo said it was called. Grimm certainly felt himself a believer in its unnatural nature now, but how could he be touching something that phased through other physical objects? Certainly it had to be a matter of allowance and permission. This creature of manifest didn’t feel like anything particular against his gloved hand as it rested there, and Grimmjow wondering if they were correctly requesting its guidance.

 

            The buck’s head remained bowed and the unusual creature remained calmly still. Like great upright branches on a tree, its red antlers continued to ripple with their red glowing color feature and the reddish glint of its eyes watched the exotic man before it intently.

 

            “I- I don’t know exactly…but the book mentioned having to follow the manifestation…” He was uncertain but at least Grimmjow was fine and they could assume that this manifestation was friendly.

 

            “This thing ain’t movin’ Ichi,” Grimmjow mentioned flatly.

 

            “Um…” The teenager hesitated, lacking a clear idea of what should be happening.

 

            Feeling antsy about being watched by this buck’s red eyes Grimmjow glanced back to Ichigo, “Can ya keep lookin’? I’m startin’ to get a little freaked out.”

 

            Apologetically Ichigo blinked and put his eyes down to the resource he held to search again. “I’m sorry, it’s just like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” A ten-foot creature standing still with an otherworldly appearance while they tried to figure out how to commune with it. This worn book was also something which he’d never read through before. The information he needed was in different sections. Ichigo had no doubt that the manifestation was here for them and would likely wait for them to figure this out, but how did it know they needed it? Had they conjured it by touching something? Saying something? There _had_ the be a reason why it had approached them…

 

            As an unnerved Grimmjow turned his head to keep an eye on the buck again it huffed a steamed breath from both of its nostrils. Grimmjow stiffened but didn’t flinch. How could something so not of this world…do _that?_ Interacting with their world. Grimm’s blueish eyes suddenly blinked open wider as a thought rushed over him and he drew his hand away and looked at the black insulated leather glove covering it. Could this be inhibiting his interaction? Grimmjow’s eyes shifted as he considered his idea.

 

            Realizing that Grimmjow had moved his hand away Ichigo tried to lean to see exactly what his lover was doing ahead of him. “Grimmjow? Are you ok?”

 

 _‘What if I touch it without the glove?’_ “I’m fine Ichi.” Grimmjow pulled up on the fingers of the one glove and after sliding it off he pocketed it. “But I think I know how to get this to work.” Turning only his torso enough to show Ichigo his bare hand he noticed the teenager’s eyes widen a bit.

 

            “Oh! I see! That’s good thinking!” Ichigo smiled a slight bit at his lover’s cleverness.

 

            Grimmjow shrugged, “Don’t congratulate me yet…it still has to work.” With a deep sort of breath the exotic man faced he buck again. The manifestation hadn’t moved except the eerie stare of its jewel-like red eyes following him. “Ya ready?” he spoke to it and reached to place his bare hand on its head. His hand set down where it had been before between the antlers and quickly there was a dim light radiating from under the point of contact. It felt warm. The buck slowly closed its reddish eyes and stayed still. “It’s working! Now what?” Grimmjow called.

 

            Sighing with relief that everything seemed peaceful Ichigo returned to searching the book’s pages for more proceedings about communing with goodly manifestations. “Give me a moment…” as the pages flipped Ichigo was finding nothing different than he already had, so he started to reread the most helpful sections. In a few minutes he realized that in places he’d overlooked its texts stated things like, ‘protective spells of the abjurer are essential’ with examples of runic symbols to enable protective spells and explain what they protected against when dealing with magick. Ichigo was not at all familiar with any schools of magick or any of the many dangers that people faced when interacting with it, but these scattered texts opened his eyes to some alarming facts. This was really _dangerous_. It hadn’t seemed so from the get-go. Quickly coming to his senses about the nature of what they were messing with… “Grimmjow take your hand back-!” he yelled looking up quickly, but it was _far_ too late. Clutching the book on the page he’d left off Ichigo saw the man ahead of him being drug forward by some invisible force like gravity and fighting to pull the limb he’d extended away from the manifestation of the buck. “Grimmjow!” Ichigo yelled, in half of a bellow and half of a panicked scream.

 

            “STAY BACK!” The words were loud and direct so that Ichigo wouldn’t get pulled into what was happening to him.

 

            Ichigo’s breath quivered when he realized that Grimmjow didn’t have the hand which he’d reached out with anymore…the man’s body was starting to shatter into black mist and small fragments like ash from paper burning in a fire. The pieces where blown up by the wind and disintegrated right at the point where the property’s drive started – the boundary or divide between the property and the roadside. “Fuck! I don’t know what to do!”

 

            The buck had not moved a single pace this entire time and was patiently waiting while both panicked humans were trying to figure out what to do.

 

            “Just stay back!” Though he struggled Grimmjow damn well knew that it was probably too late. Assuming that this was the worst case-scenario…they’d really fucked up. However he wasn’t going to be destroyed without a fight. The only traction that Grimm had were his booted feet which kept sliding on the snowy and icy ground. As ice and snow went…the more they were packed down the more solid and slippery they got. His winter-grade boots were barely able to help him keep his footing. The tip of one of them touched the boundary point between the roadside and the farm property and immediately started to shatter into the same black mist like his hand and forearm had – with an ash-like shattering. “Agh!” The veins on his legs and arms would be raised and also along his neck if it were exposed as he fought tooth and nail to pull himself away from the gravity-like force dragging him toward the manifested buck. This was strangely almost like his limbs were being amputated… The feeling of the missing ones was just _gone_. Next the barrier started to disintegrate his core as he was getting to the halfway point.

 

            Meanwhile in shock, as this scene happened in seconds, Ichigo felt like this was all his fault. He would listen to Grimmjow who’d told him to stay back but what else could he do?! Responsibly his eyes jerked down to the worn book and he read over the runes and notes for something, _anything_ , that could help or stop this! “I’ll find something! There has to be something to reverse this!”

 

            Leaning away and dragging his remaining foot was marginally less good than even two feet but Grimmjow wouldn’t stop resisting no matter how much of him was taken away. “Better late than never..!” The endangered man gritted his teeth.

 

            Still buck stood calmly, unphased and unmoved with its eyes peacefully closed. It waited.

 

            Snow and ice piled up around the edges of Grimm’s remaining and planted foot as half of him had been dissolved. Strangely it didn’t feel like he was dying…whatever dying actually felt like. He had no sense of impending end he was just breaking apart and losing the feeling of himself…slowly slipping… Maybe this was dying though… He didn’t know what it _should_ feel like. Why wasn’t he scared? For right now he was just fired up in determination to _live_. He couldn’t let Ichigo lose another person who meant so much to him…and he didn’t want to lose Ichigo either..! “RRRRGH! HURRY UP IF YA PLEASE!” Grimmjow was still struggling but he could hardly feel his body anymore, all the rest of it was vanishing. The blackened mist of dissolving parts was blown up into the wintery air much higher than their heads and then gone. In last moments of desperation Grimmjow’s head turned directly toward Ichigo and he knew by the frantic way that his lover was looking through that book that Ichigo hadn’t found a solution and probably wouldn’t find one in time. Grimm yelled at the young man and immediately caught Ichigo’s attention, “I love ya! Remember tha-” and before Ichigo could even say something back Grimm’s only remaining source of resisting traction, his heel, was drug up against the invisible boundary and shattered into that mysterious black mist and ash and the rest of the exotic man was quickly pulled in and broken apart in the same way. In the final moments a flash of Grimmjow’s dark form taking over and blackening him showed as the man himself roared and tried to break free. Then there was a spray of the ash-like material. Was he dying?! Was this dying..? Grimmjow’s shadowy face with burning blue eyes was gone in an instant though. Black ash-like specks scattered broadly into the air and blew apart as they drifted on the wind until there was nothing left.

 

            Ichigo screamed a sound of pure distress that could shatter windows into the empty air and threw the magick book against the snowy ground. If it hadn’t been his lover that had just disappeared before his eyes the scene of scattering black flecks into the air as artfully as they floated would have been beautiful. The young man stared in shock for the next seconds, hands trembling and staring at the buck as it slowly raised its head and opened its jewel-like red eyes. He was helpless…and Grimmjow…was gone.

 

            The buck turned away and staring to flee swiftly back on to the property.

 

            Sensible enough to know that he couldn’t just rush in and grab that manifestation by the antlers and demand Grimmjow back Ichigo just screamed again into the empty air and yelled toward the manifestation, “Grimmjow!” His eyes started to well up with cold tears that dripped down from his face. “YOU GIVE HIM BACK!” Ichigo was squeezing his gloved hands together tightly and pressing his teeth hard into his lower lip between words. What should he do?! “GIVE HIM BAAAACK!” Ichigo could feel a sharp sting of grief in his gut to look out at the spot where Grimmjow had been struggling and dragging his feet – the remnants of scraping were still there. The magick book rested at Ichigo’s feet haphazardly.

 

            Out on the property the unnatural buck had vanished, gone in the wind and snowy haze of the day.

 

            In a strange sort of furious grief Ichigo cried long tears and tried to swallow his frustration as he sank down on the cold ground staring helplessly down at the worn book of magick. He wished that he had never touched this fucking thing… The cold wintery wind blew against the young man on the ground and the chilly surface of the slightly packed road rested against his legs and rear. His orangish hair without the beanie that Grimmjow had given him rustled softly. Some of his tears were partially frozen as they came down his cheeks and over his eyelashes. The wintery wind was very cold against his face. What should he do?! He didn’t know… As he gathered up the only resource he had and held onto the haphazardly open book he felt like speaking to it for wisdom as some tears rolled and hit the lifeless pages and cover. The wind blew gentler against him because of the Mazda beside him blocking it a little. Ichigo’s fingers left off the pages as they floated back and forth. In the pit of feeling coldly depressed and frustrated a pair of pages pinned open rather unnaturally with the wind. Through his tears the young man took notice and forced himself to calm down a little as he realized that they shouldn’t be doing that…and in a world he’d learned had unnatural things about it…this might be a sign of something. He read what they were about with deep breaths.

 

            “‘Self-Abjuration – for the traveler of planes.’” ‘Planes’. Like planes of existence? Feeling like something was actually trying to help him Ichigo dared continue to read realizing that if he didn’t calm the fuck down and try he would never be able to help get Grimmjow back. He refused to believe that his lover had died just now. Ichigo read the book to himself quietly as he stayed on the ground there in front of the Mazda. The worn book itself was written in hand-printed lettering that was slightly cursive but not difficult to decipher. Beautiful handwriting he could describe it as, and now given the time Ichigo could appreciate the letters…had his mother written all of this? His father had said that it was her book… Despite what had happened Ichigo was less averted to this magickal book when he remembered whom it had belonged to. His whole family had loved Masaki so much when she was alive, and that was because she was such a radiant person and a wonderful mother. “‘Essentials - self-protective spells, of the abjurer…” There was that word again, ‘abjurer’, which he’d seen several times now…suppose an abjurer was one who used defensive magick based on all of these defensive descriptors around it. “…and wards to stave away infection or infestations of the mind and the flesh. Beware wards and spells’ duration for some planes will tax them immensely and remove their durability at variable rates.’” Ichigo’s mind felt malleable to this information and absorbent. It was making sense to him. That last thing… so sometimes depending on where you were, which plane probably, the magick could wear off faster. That made a lot of sense in a weirdly basic way…like erosion. How could magick make _basic_ sense…when it was so extraordinary? With this new subject to distract him Ichigo’s tears were starting to dry up. After looking at a few detailed drawings of runes and wards in decay as examples Ichigo turned the page with a crinkle. On the next pair of pages there were a ton of drawings, shapes with detailed intricacies inside of them. How bizarre.

 

            There under each drawing were penned descriptions, warnings, empowerment instructions and details for each and every runic drawing about how to make these wards and spells powerful – to get them to work. Reading on the young man discovered that most of the runes which the author had put into this book were goodly, some perhaps desperate and seeming to be very costly at the gift of great power, but here in this humble worn book he read nothing of vile or evil magick. ‘Black’ magick he assumed was the bad stuff. There was nothing about siphoning souls or killing things as sacrifices and those were what Ichigo assumed was black magick. A little relieved Ichigo sighed, his mother had always seemed like a good person and from what his young-self could remember she had been.

 

            At the most some runes required a little blood, others specified nature’s ingredients and others yet still were to be drawn on specific surfaces at specific times – seemingly not menacing. Some of the runes’ intentions for use were plain, others were confusing… Some costly and some mundane. What was it that he needed out of these pages?

 

            Clueless about his real needs in this situation Ichigo was indeed a little overwhelmed now. These concepts of magick were bizarre. He glanced at the page or two ahead and the subjects of the ahead pages were totally different so he turned back to the protective runes he’d been studying. Still sitting upon the cold ground the young man was definitely going to use these but he felt worried about combining any of them – but it had said that he needed his mind and body to guarded. If he was going to responsibly go after Grimmjow into some strange plane he had to.

 

            Here was a rune which caught Ichigo’s eye… A runic ward that was carved into the palm of the hand of the user and it strongly protected against infestation of the body. It lasted _for a lifetime_ …with the _heavy_ warning that its strain on the abjurer would suck years out of their life: ‘The Red Rune of Mortal Flesh’. It seemed so powerful and absolute that it could be ideal for a lifetime’s use…but how many years of living would he lose if he had it? If this was actually doable that is…Ichigo had yet to see whether this stuff worked. The reality was the risk of carving something into his own hand…ouch – by any standard. The reality of the idea made him tremble, but he reminded himself about what he’d seen so far and the fact that Grimmjow was sucked into some strange plane of existence because of _his_ ill-advised knowledge of their situation. He’d told Grimmjow to mess with that manifestation…so it was _his_ responsibility to get Grimmjow out of there. Ichigo lamented for another instant but determined to help he forced his mind back on track to the task at hand…he was going to use this powerful rune. Ichigo’s nerves steeled suddenly and he was starting to feel extremely resolved about doing this no matter how scared he still felt under the surface. He finished reading about ‘The Red Rune of Mortal Flesh’. It said that it guarded against harm that was magickal and intended to harm the physical self and when it empowered it was automatic and extremely reliable and accurate. Hopefully meaning that it wouldn’t suck the life out of its user unnecessarily.

 

            Intelligently Ichigo knew that shouldn’t tell anyone about this or show it off once he had it. Suppose an enemy knew that this rune drew on his lifeforce and would use that to kill him. ‘Kill’. Ichigo swallowed nervously. Was he going to visit a plane where things wanted to kill him?

 

            Regardless, he wanted to know for sure if this magick business worked before he started carving something painful. So Ichigo turned to a small nature rune that supposed to be cast in the middle of one’s garden to protect the plants, ‘The Green Rune of Flowering Vines’. It was a minor guardian rune and only required casting on the ground specifically and water to continue. Ichigo dug down through snow into a place where there was dirt on the roadside and drew the circular rune with his finger. He touched it and spoke the words given in the book.

 

            A vine from the center of the rune started to poke up and grew a few inches tall with little flowering buds poking off of its trunk.

 

            Ichigo gasped a little hopefully as he watched this happen. Hopefully the other ones would work this well too.

 

            With all the proof he needed to be confident enough to do this, Ichigo took the glove off of his non-dominate hand, the left, and cleaned it off with snow then pressed its palm against the icy ground and held it there until it was so numb that it was difficult to move his fingers. If only he had a pen to draw it first… The switchblade in his pocket he took out with his right hand and looked at the unused edge with the tip of the sharp blade ejected from the hilt. It was _perfectly_ sharp. The perfect tool.

 

            Despite himself and his resolve his body trembled, the wraps underneath his clothing were doing their job at keeping the rest of him warm no doubt, but this trembling was an _anxious_ trembling. This was about to get real… Pining the book of magick open with his knee Ichigo held the switchblade’s tip down and breathed swiftly several times before pressing the tip of the knife into his palm. “AAAAGH!” He hesitated for a moment as a large bead of blood ran down his open left hand and dripped into the road’s snow. The numbing from pressing it against the ice had barely done a thing to assuage this. Whatever…it was happening now and he had to finish, though the reality of how much this was going to _hurt_ , as spikes of pain presently shot through his hand from just the first tiny cut, was immediately evident. The snow and compressed ice under his hand went red.

 

            Figuring that this was close to the extreme extent of lovers saying that they would bleed for each other, Ichigo steadied himself and minded the book’s design of the rune as he started to carve the rest. He kind of felt like he was going to pass out a couple of times. As calmly as he could Ichigo took fifteen long minutes to properly and exactly carve a simple bloody rune with a shape that resembled a circle and inside it stars and small characters on their borders. Thanks to the exact keen tip of the knife Ichigo could put in every detail into the carving. Red rivulets ran from his barely numbed and quivering palm and further stained the snow. The knife was bloody. It hurt worse than most anything he’d ever felt, but he couldn’t focus on that or he’d have faltered. Ichigo’s eyes streamed tears of agony now and again just from the strain and he let out gasps of pluming air into the cold wind to try and control his breathing. The last details…he was making the last details…he was almost finished.

 

            When done, finally, Ichigo jumped up without hesitation and plunged his bloody hand into the clean piles of snow on the roadside that he and Grimmjow had just been playing in. “AAAAGH!” he exhaled another long painfilled cry and sobbed as his hand had definitely gotten enough feeling back to hurt immensely. Now he really felt close to fainting. The clean snow numbed some of the pain more as it melted against the wound with a bit of initial stinging. Taking his macabre decorated hand out of the reddened and tearstained snow and looking at it, the thing was still bleeding and very red, sore and irritated from the centimeter-deep cuts and he almost couldn’t believe what he’d just done. Ichigo breathed small pluming breaths as he stared at it, then as he wiped at the blood with clean snow to check his work at least the rune looked decent. He glanced apologetically at the vine he’d grown some minutes before, as it was also on the side of the road. What a cold and unfortunate place for a plant. To finish comparing Ichigo held onto his left hand with the right, which stopped some of its shaking, and staggered back over to where the small book was left on the ground and, careful not to get any blood on the pages, he made sure that he’d carved the design by the book. Now and again he still had to wipe away the blood to see and continued to use handfuls of clean snow. It was actually good that the cuts got to bleed a bit, that pushed out bacteria and the like. A doctor’s son would know that, and so he allowed his hand to bleed somewhat.

 

            The design he’d carved was exact. Thank god it had been a simpler one. Ichigo could be slightly relieved and exhaled a long sigh of painful relief.

 

            Now to empower it, right? Removing his other glove Ichigo pushed both of his palms together while kneeling. That stung a bit! He was following instructions from the book and then he closed his eyes and exhaled while reciting a strange series of words from the book. Ichigo felt a surging rush through his body that progressed to his palms and felt like he’d just grabbed a hold of a hot spud. Ouch! The burn lasted only briefly and when he came back to reality after following the simple instructions he took his palms apart and the runic carving in his flesh was sealing itself up! Slowly the split skin was folding opposite edges together. Ichigo was stunned by the unnatural healing. When the process finished his carving was an obvious scar and he had no more pain! Though the palm of that hand felt a little hot.

 

            Ichigo’s body felt perhaps sturdier. That was the closest thing which he could compare the after sensation to, but maybe he was just swayed to think that because a minute ago he was experiencing mind-numbing pain. Though it had worked! This rune had really worked! Ichigo’s breath quivered hopefully, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his right hand.

 

            What was unknown to Ichigo currently were some fundamentals about the magick of his world. It was real as he was, but _not_ everyone could use it. This young man wouldn’t understand facts like that until much later, but for now…he was doing alright because of his hereditary affinity for it. Surely Masaki had wanted to spare her children the risk of magick by never telling them about it and never sharing her own knowledge. Maybe that was why she had hidden this book and left it with her husband.

 

            Remembering that protecting his body was only half of the requirements mentioned Ichigo went looking through the worn book’s runes for one that would protect his non-physical self. There had been writing about how that was important too. He found ‘Common Spell of the Mind’, like the nature rune he’d tested this was a rune not so invasive as to need carving on his skin but the abjurer had to draw it on the ground. It said to then stand in the center of the innermost circular ring and recite words to empower the rune and cast the ward on oneself. Easy enough right? It would provide protection and stamina of the mind and soul, and hopefully not backfire with this blood rune on his palm. Supposedly this common ward had no negative side-effects but it needed to be recast often – done so by holding a hand up to where it showed itself and reciting words. Despite that handicap Ichigo figured that it balanced out the steep cost of the other one and took the switchblade out again using it to carve this next rune into the icy ground, figuring that since it wasn’t growing anything it didn’t need to be on dirt.

 

            The rune itself was beautiful featuring several circles and just a few strange characters around its curves. To Ichigo’s benefit it was much simpler a design than the last one. Once the carving was done Ichigo stood in the center where instructed and leaving the small book outside of the circle he recited a few strange words that he’d had to memorize from the book. There was a huge rush of energy through his body as the rune around his feet emitted white-blue light straight up into the heavens - breaking the haze of the snowy overcast. It distorted and swirled the clouds. Ichigo felt a tingling in his nerves as the empowerment finished and the warding spell was cast. He checked himself over for strange marks…and there was one. A small version of that ‘Common Spell of the Mind’s’ rune glowing in the middle of his chest over his coat. The glow seemed persistent. This was a little cool…like being an RPG wizard or something. Ichigo found himself struggling to stay serious for a second or two.

 

            Now he supposed that he had the minimum required amount of protection, or so he felt it was the minimum. If he had to recast his mind’s ward he would just have to remember to hold his hand up to the mini-glowing ward on his chest and say those exact empowering words again. Not hard.

 

            Now to figure out how to get where he needed to be…probably the most confusing part of this. Did he need his own manifestation to lead him into Grimmjow’s plane? Assuming that there was a plane to enter and Grimmjow had not been killed. Once again resorting to his only reference Ichigo turned the pages of the book until he found some text in a section titled ‘Traversing Planes’. He read about the different sorts of planes. Their behaviors and characteristics…some seemed like pure hell with scorching fields and death traps while others were just dreamlike bliss with gardens and cities in the clouds. However he didn’t know what Grimmjow’s might be like because he couldn’t see clues about it. The young man closed the worn book after a short time reading. He was colder now…not even really thinking about the fact that he’d been outside in this wretched weather for so long. Winter’s invasion of fall. It was supposed to be fall…

 

            The tangerine haired young man got up off of the ground and brushed himself off, holding onto the small book tightly and walked toward the place where Grimmjow’s heels had scraped up the side of the road before the drive. His boots crunched over the snow and ice. The site itself was upsetting. With a few more tears falling from his face, though he didn’t blubber or whine, Ichigo reached forward with just as shaky of a hand as Grimmjow’s had been. He reached past the divide between the roadside and the property and nothing happened. Oh no… Ichigo snatched his hand back and frantically looked at it then looked around. He probably needed a manifestation to lead him into it right..? Right… Swallowing Ichigo yelled out into the property, “WHATEVER YOU ARE…COME AND GET ME TOO!” One scary deer coming right up… The young man paused as his voice echoed and nothing happened. After waiting for minutes without anything approaching Ichigo delved back into the book with a constant turning of pages. There had to be something about how to conjure a manifestation to lead him in.

 

            As he was reading a shadow fell on him from the front. That scared Ichigo senseless and the young man jolted and fell backward as a black vision of a tall person with huge black wings and bloody red eyes stood before him at the border where the end of the drive came to. Ichigo’s butt hit the ground and his back touched the side of his Mazda’s front bumper as he backed up instinctively. Holy shit! The features of this shady looking person, save for the basic shape of a body and wings and general shape of the eyes, was nondescript and seemed like it was fuming with plumes of blackened smoke.

 

            Ichigo wondered for a moment as he stared in awe…had…had he been heard? Were the manifestations from that plane listening to him? This one looked different. It wasn’t a buck…but at least it was something. Ichigo slowly got up and continued staring at the person-like manifestation which moved its clawed hand forward and offered it at the very edge of the border. “Are you from the same place as that creature before?! The one with red eyes and red antlers?!” Ichigo asked in a desperate sounding voice.

 

            The blackened form nodded its head and continued holding out its hand.

 

            It was inviting him to go with it, at least that’s what Ichigo felt like it was doing. Hopefully it wasn’t tricking him but who knew how many of these manifestations could be trusted… Not like he felt like he had much of a choice. Though from what he’d read in his mother’s book here the whole consensual contact thing was a characteristic only of goodly manifestations. Thundering in his chest was Ichigo’s heart, but he needed to trust in his mother’s advice…magickal or not. Suppose that even though magick had taken Grimmjow from him that the magick wasn’t evil…suppose that it was just unusual to two mortals who didn’t understand it and there was a point to going through all of this. Answers or enlightenment. Maybe even just a strengthening of bonds.

 

            Taking slow steps forward the young man breathed heavily and stared at the beckoning hand as it was too scary to look the manifestation in the eyes. Ichigo reached past the border and placed his bare hand on the palm of the strange black one, clasping and holding on. He waited. There was a dull glow under his palm and Ichigo realized that he couldn’t pull his hand away even if he tried. It was warm…and his hand too shattered into black mist and wafted up in ashes in moments. With a fearful breath Ichigo watched himself dissolve before his own eyes and tried not to think of how he was losing touch with parts of his own body as a gravity pulled him toward the border and further broke his mortal body apart.

 

            In front of him the shadowy form had its head bowed and eyes closed as it waited there almost reverently.

 

            Ichigo didn’t resist and was pulled through the border quickly in a plume of mist and ash that dissolved into the air. In moments there was nothing left of Ichigo standing on the snowy roadside.

 

            When the young man was gone with the invitiation the black form of the winged person-like manifestation turned around and started to walk away from where it had joined the human then faded back into the air itself…back to its own plane…a realm zipped into mysterious space.

 

 

_[Between an hour or two later…]_

            Nnoitora and Nel had run into a slowdown as an accident on the highway had caused the large road to back up unexpectedly. While they could only inch forward a bit at a time Nnoitora’s kind of idle mind revolved around what was going on with Grimmjow and had Nelliel text him back but though the messages had sent there was no response. The coffee they were bringing was getting cold.

 

            When they finally broke out of the traffic and got onto the unpopular exit they needed Nnoitora turned the truck and they were on that same country road that Grimmjow and Ichigo had taken. Long ago the tracks from the Mazda6 would have been visible but now the wind and snowfall had covered them. This was still the correct way. They drove for a time, hardly able to see a thing too far around them just like Grimmjow and Ichigo. Talking casually and trying to keep things light in the cab the both of them still felt a little nervous about what could be going on out here in the middle of nowhere. Considering what they’d helped Grimmjow with before when they’d gone for his Lamborghini it could be threatening. Nnoitora still had guns in the truck. Perhaps it was just that Grimmjow’s phone didn’t get reception here and they could relax this time.

 

            Then up toward the sky there was a large crackle of orange and white into the clouds that pierced the snowy haze of the horrible weather. It was further ahead by a few miles.

 

            Nelliel’s eyes opened up wide as she stared out of the windshield.

 

            Nnoitora sat up much straighter, white knuckling the steering wheel.

 

            Then came another crackle that branched out wider and a huge explosion from the ground under it which they could see debris flying out of, and the land ahead…some of the land was burning.

 

            At this point Nnoitora stopped the truck. It slid a little as he put the brakes to the test and had to turn into his slide just to get it to quit moving. On the side of the country road he couldn’t stop staring out of the windshield at the catastrophe far ahead of them. To see that much of an explosion which was so far off and had blown away the snowy haze enough to be seen was…

 

            “What are you doing?!” Nel exclaimed, shaking Nnoitora’s arm. “Go! Go! Go! That could have Grimmjow and he could be hurt!”

 

            Nnoitora looked at Nel with wide eyes, “Ya think ‘e caused tha’ kind’a shit?!”

 

            “I don’t know what to think but something bad just happened and there will be _no one_ else to help him or anyone in time!” Nelliel’s argument was actually pretty sound. “You saw the map, there’s hardly anything else out here. That has to be him!” Even more sound.

 

            Nnoitora growled and pushed his cellphone into his girlfriend’s hand. “Ya call the police an’ tell ‘em wha’s ‘appened while I drive. ‘Massive s’plosion’ an’ all, an’ make sure no’ ta tell ‘em ‘bout Grimm. We don’ wanna implicate ‘im iffen it ain’t ‘is fault.”

 

            Nelliel unlocked the phone which had good signal and paused as she found the phone number for this county’s police on the internet. “What else should I say if they ask?”

 

            Nnoitora had put the truck back in gear to drive and with snow flying up behind the tires he started to drive with a sense of urgency and a very serious look on his thin face. “Tell ‘em nothin’ else. We don’ even know ‘zactly wha’ this is.”


	56. Soul of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: supernatural spooks!, nudity

**Chapter Fifty-Six**

_“Soul of Darkness”_

 

 

            Ichigo’s next feeling was likened to falling and then he hit the ground in a completely black space and lay there feeling awful. He briefly wondered if the red rune wasn’t working. He considered, for a rational moment as he lay there just feeling pain, that the book had said that it was only supposed to prevent magickal harms, like that of evil magick to the body. So it probably wouldn’t just activate when he was physically harmed, right? That would actually be good. Less drain on his life, he would just have to be more careful. Slowly starting to push himself up Ichigo blinked as the pain started to go away and he tried to look around but strangely all he could see was himself. The skin on his body glowed slightly. Everywhere else was completely black. Plain as day just himself yet nothing else in this blackened void surrounding his position… It did not feel cold nor warm here…there was a striking absence of real temperature…and Ichigo wasn’t even sure if he was breathing air because it felt different to inhale and exhale. What strange plane was this?

 

            While trying to get his bearings by looking around Ichigo realized quickly that his clothing was dissolving and falling off of his body, even the wrappings that he was supposed to keep on for warmth – modesty in decay. He stayed sitting and tried with grasping to keep the fragmenting pieces of clothes on himself but they still just broke apart in his hands like sand. Everything in his pockets that weren’t clothes fell onto the ground around him in the sands. No sound echoed from the objects tumbling down; it was peculiar when the ground felt so solid and glassy. The white rune still glowed over the middle of his chest. As Ichigo grabbed up his mother’s book first, able to see his possessions as well, and shyly folded his legs so that his manhood wouldn’t be on display for whatever lurked in this plane he realized that directions in the space around him were totally indistinguishable. There was a strange sense of endlessness to this place as nervous hazel eyes gazed about. He only knew that the ground was there because he was sitting on it but the void around him felt like it reached far beyond the ground and all around him.  How was that possible? Ichigo’s naked reaction to this was almost a nauseated feeling and deep nervousness in his gut. The young man raised his little flashlight, among the possessions that had been in his pockets, and used its beam against the supposed darkness around himself but the light did not travel through it… It was swallowed by it. Almost like it was not darkness but void…swallowing all that entered and all that shone. Ichigo felt a little dizzy. He turned off the flashlight and put it down. He hadn’t expected to enter a place so _empty_. What could he do from here with nothing around to interact by?

 

            Minutes passed and without any sign of change to his void environment Ichigo grew worried as he was devoid of a true plan to course of action. Honestly, trying to traverse the empty void would be the most basic thing he could possibly do, but it wasn’t much of a solution to wander lost in place where he could not see. Ichigo was also afraid to walk around in case he fell off of some unseen platform’s edge.

 

            After these minutes, when Ichigo’s worries were at a peak and he was working up the nerve to stand and walk, a tiny dot of light appeared in the far distance of the void.

 

            “Oh…” Ichigo gasped with the softest of sounds which also did not echo, and the nude young man stood up. Gathering his few possessions he held them against his torso and curiously started walking toward the speck of light. A way out? It seemed quite far off and he walked swiftly. The spot he’d landed initially, scattered with the sand of his dissolved clothing, was swallowed into the endless feeling of the void and the sense of direction back to it was utterly lost. No turning back. The white dot ahead was getting a little bigger and then abruptly a rush of wind toward Ichigo knocked the naked human off of his feet with a brutal force. All of the objects in his hands fell and he collapsed on his bare side against the glassy ground…suppose it was the ground and not just a strange platform. That tumble had hurt him a little more, Ichigo sat up slowly with a grimace.

 

            Trying to figure out what he might have collided with, the wind had hit Ichigo so hard that it felt like he’d run into something solid, he reached out ahead of himself and realized that there was nothing there… Just the speck of light ahead. It was either getting larger or moving toward him. Oh finally! Something. As Ichigo stayed put and waited that dot of white turned into a child’s figure and it was still running toward him. Tangled in white sheets and trying to pull them off as the child ran Ichigo started to realize that this figure might be in trouble, and because it looked like a child damn the consequences… “Here! Come here!” Ichigo forgot his cautious nature, he would help them!

 

            The child barreled for him, stumbling and gasping, and they ran for the voice that called to them…and their body started to grow. The closer they came the taller and more mature they seemed with these white sheets, that they tore off of themselves only to have to fend off more, streaming off of them like malformed wings.

 

            By the time it reached Ichigo a full-grown man collapsed on the young man and dropping down embracing Ichigo tightly, squeezing him like he was very glad to see him. Ichigo felt breathless.

 

            This man pushing his face into the crook of Ichigo’s neck. The white sheets hanging from him fell dead still against the smooth ground and did not move. Other than the sheets this man was just as naked as Ichigo. The man’s hair was a cerulean blue and it was a full wavy mess around his face as the form clung to his beloved. “Ichi…go…”

 

            Even if Ichigo hadn’t noticed his hair he would still have known that this was Grimmjow, just by the voice. Lovingly Ichigo put his arms around Grimm and embraced him back, trying comfort the man but realizing that while he held onto him and felt across Grimmjow’s bare back among the wispy sheets that there was strangely, _no warmth_ from the body he was holding. Was finding Grimmjow really this easy?

 

            Dark wings started to tear out of the man’s back and the sheets suddenly blackened and coiled around them tightly.

 

            It was suffocating! Quickly alarmed Ichigo struggled and tried to free himself but was pushed down against the smooth floor and gradually absorbed through it into the void whether he struggled or not. Grimmjow’s body was starting to blacken all over as they both sunk in. “Grimmjow don’t do this!” Ichigo coughed and cried as he was afraid of what was happening to them.

 

            A gravelly voice with a malicious tone hissed around them with a language that the young man could not understand.

 

            Then Ichigo felt _plunged_ into a soupy and thick mass below the ground where now he could not even see himself in the void…perhaps now this was true void…it had swallowed him too. His limbs sprawled and his eyes were wide open with fear. Ichigo was then instinctively moving like he was swimming as he was trapped in a kind of thick liquid suspension. Unsurprisingly Grimmjow was gone, if that was even his handsome lover to start with. After minutes spent struggling and surprised that he hadn’t drowned though he’d gulped mouthfuls of something thick just to try and breathe Ichigo was pulled down a current and slammed up against a few hard objects he could not see. Ultimately he was thrown out of the current onto another hard piece of ground and struck by the objects he’d brought with himself as they tumbled out after him.

 

            There was that pain from falling again and Ichigo hacked and heaved up black matter that he’d swallowed and inhaled from the current in the void. This sensation of riding himself of that gunk was so vastly uncomfortable that Ichigo could barely move on the ground until it was all out. Then he could breathe. The substance tasted nasty like iron and salt. It was almost like blackened blood in that taste and the consistency. Ichigo still didn’t understand how he’d survived that long without air. His naked body trembled and he was starting to shake off the thick black matter that stuck awkwardly to his skin and smeared when pushed off. It looked like he might have rolled in sticky black paint. Ichigo continued to cough for a while and drug himself a few inches forward through something on the ground that had quite a bit of give as he pushed on it. Ichigo started to feel cold…he was looking down. Snow. He was laying in a few inches of snow. He exhaled a cold shivering breath and clutched his limbs, lifting himself out of the white – some of which he’d stained black with the blood-like textured and tasting matter. The black stuff on him was drying either by the cold air…or freezing. Immediately worried that he might’ve ruined or lost his mother’s book and some of his other useful possessions Ichigo scraped as many of his belongings out of the snow as he could find…the flashlight, his keys and his mother’s book. The rest had truly gone missing. His knife was particularly unfortunate loss. The broken cellphone…not so much.

 

            Ichigo hadn’t looked around himself yet, he was too afraid to right away, but he had to now that he’d collected himself. As the shivering cold young man tipped his head up he saw that the surroundings were completely white and snow laden, but that was it. Almost like the dark and endless void that he’d fallen out of had turning into an endless tundra. They were similar. No features around besides the white snow… No real sense of direction… Just the cold and the gathering snow of uniform color. The sky, though there seemed one, was barely distinguishable from the land. There was snow falling from above which gathered on top of his shoulders, arms and legs. Where…was he now?

 

            Black stained and starting to feel horribly cold a still nude Ichigo gradually rose to his feet. If he’d thought taking a piss earlier and poking his dick out of his pants was bad…he certainly couldn’t have complained about that again after this experience. He had such a turtle-dick that there wouldn’t be anything to hide from anyone who could see him because it would be up in his body! Ichigo’s hands trying to hold his aching groin as he shivered barely helped his genitals warm up. Shaking his head and huffing his breaths Ichigo decided to give one last look around for the possessions which he’d dropped and could not find initially. He couldn’t see any spots where they’d fallen or dig them up in the snow. What should he do? It was too cold to waste time. The young man huffed pluming breaths from his mouth and tried not to think about his balls freezing off.

 

            Suppose that void plane had tossed him out…back into the real world? There was no solid evidence to support that he’d fallen back into a snowy field of the real world so could this be a different plane? Ichigo stared at the hazy white and grey sky showering him with snow, searching for any breaks but there were none. If this cold temperature was part of a magical phenomenon wouldn’t his red rune protect- Ichigo suddenly remembered. Oh no! The white rune! He looked down at his chest quickly. The white rune was a little dim but after tying his keys onto the small string through his little flashlight and hooking it over his wrist he opened his mother’s book shakily and looked for the words to empower the rune again. His one hand held the book and the other onto his groin, still trying to help that. After renewing the rune and be just fine and could move on.

 

            A lightly packed snowball collided with the side of Ichigo’s head and broke into a shower of pieces.

 

            Stunned for a moment Ichigo shook his head off and realized that the pieces were on the book and he quickly brushed them off and looked up irritably. Ichigo’s hazel eyes were wide and surprised; he saw the exact likeness of Grimmjow wearing all of his clothes like the last time he’d seen the man.

 

            Grimmjow was standing about twenty feet away tossing another snowball up and down in his right hand as if he was waiting to throw it.

 

            Damn! This was not the time for play! Didn’t Grimmjow understa- Wait. Based on the last encounter he’d had with a visage like Grimmjow was this the man he was looking for, or just another twisted and false form? Ichigo blinked.

 

            Another snowball hit Ichigo in the back.

 

            In that one blink he’d missed movement. Ichigo whirled and saw Grimmjow standing behind him…a little closer…maybe fifteen feet away? The young man swallowed nervously. Even though Grimmjow seemed extremely normal Ichigo was not put at ease. This Grimmjow wasn’t calling out to him in friendly or playful terms as he knew the real man would do if he wanted a snowball fight. Ichigo turned back to the book with a mind to finish renewing the rune. His eyes searched the pages frantically, in a panic it was harder to find what he needed.

 

            A shadow appeared ahead.

 

            Ichigo was scared absolutely shitless from his reading by Grimmjow’s form standing just a foot in front of him. The young man’s hazel eyes were wide as he shivered quite noticeably from the cold and fear as the man stared back at him with unnecessarily wide eyes and a grin showing all pointed fangs instead of human teeth. Everything about this version of Grimmjow was correct except those things. Freezing his ass off but still able to somewhat think Ichigo started to consider something… Despite his fear he slowly lowered his eyes to the book so that he could renew this rune.

 

            Grimmjow closed the gap between them and stood an inch in front of the book without touching it but staring at Ichigo with an angry sort of frown now.

 

            Swallowing dryly and still shivering Ichigo, stained with the dried black matter, looked back up warily and took a step back from the encroaching form while looking around them quickly. There was just them here. The form ahead of him did not step to go after him, it just watched him with the wide-eyed and eerie look. Ichigo knew its game now… It was trying to _stop_ him from renewing this rune, probably so it could infest his head or hurt him some other way. He was sure that this foul thing was out to do him harm but strangely it didn’t just rush in and grab him. This terrifying form might be made completely of magick and knew the rune would do something to damage it. Ichigo took a couple more steps backward and stepped on something sharp. Yelping Ichigo limped away from it and watched his earlier lost knife sink into the snow and disappear…leaving naught but the red blood it had drawn from his foot behind on the snow.

 

            The false form of Grimmjow crouched to pick something up from the snowy ground near itself.

 

            Breathing faster as he was now _really_ scared Ichigo clutched the worn book tightly; he wished that he’d memorized these strange words. He knew that if he didn’t hurry up that he would have a serious problem and he buckled down with determination to prevent that. Though his foot was bleeding and sore he did not wait to see what that creature was picking up and bolted away, looking down to read those strange words from the book as he ran. Ichigo practically shouted them. The keys clanked against the flashlight wildly and the white rune on his chest brightened greatly.

 

            The foul thing had given chase but did not catch up in time to get its target before Ichigo could recite the words, and it collapsed in the snow and the human’s knife went tumbling into the white and was lost again for good.

 

            Ichigo heard the ‘thud’ and crunching snow from the fall and stopped, huffing breath and looking back quick enough to see that it was a bubbling mass like black tar that was disappearing into the snow. Ichigo was another amount scared now, having the answer to his much earlier question…there were things here in these planes which wanted to kill or hurt him. The keys and flashlight on his arm dangled quietly and as he lamented his injured foot and the fact that Grimmjow had come here without any protection. What could a plane like this have done to him?! Instead of staying still for long Ichigo jogged through the snow ahead. It was quite uncomfortable but he had to try to get somewhere or he’d freeze to death. Flecks of the dried black blood-like matter were sluffing off of him a little at a time as a cold wind blew gently. Ichigo repeated the strange words that could empower his white rune in his head over and over, he swore that he would not be caught off-guard again.

 

            As Ichigo started to tire from bleeding, rushing and the cold generally wearing on him he realized that there was a dark grey spot up ahead in the snow. Eager for perhaps his first clue about this place Ichigo ran up to it and discovered a simple grave, just sticks that formed a cross poking up and out of the snow. Suppose that the actual grave or a plaque was below…

 

            Out of breath Ichigo knelt and started digging away the snow with his hands to read the grave marker. His poor hands were red and raw by the time he got down far enough to find anything. Ichigo coughed a little, starting to feel the mortal effects of being out in the cold for too long with no clothing to speak of to keep him warm, and perhaps the condition he’d been in before was coming back. However he had no choice if he wanted to get Grimmjow and leave, or even to leave himself…

 

            Under the snow was a thick tome with a heavy chain that secured it to the ground of the grave.

 

            Was someone worried about this tome being stolen? There was no wording on the cover. Ichigo brushed the snow on it away and lifted it. The top piece of wood on the cross grave marker immediately fell down and rested on a low notch of the other stick. Ichigo eyed what he recognized as an inverted cross and looked back at the tome then dropped it quickly as a black smoke started to plume out from its pages all around. The white rune over his chest pulsed. In a hurry, though it hurt his cut foot quite a bit, Ichigo backed up from the grave and its creepy tome with his mother’s book held tightly in his arms and flashlight and keys dangling from his bent elbow. What the _hell_ had been buried there?! Something _damned_ for sure! Suppose his rune had pulsed because it was preventing something evil from getting to him through that tome.

 

            As the black smoke out of the tome rose up, in great contrast to the white surroundings, it flecked with ash-like bits and formed the familiar shape of what Ichigo thought looked like the manifestation of a person with dark wings which had invited him here. The same one that had met him at the barrier… Still recovering from being terrorized and chased the naked mortal was just barely standing before it catching his breath. The shape of it hovered upward of the lonely grave and Ichigo realized that it had shackles and chains on its wrists and ankles that went into the ground through the grave just like that tome. What in the devil had he awoken?

 

            It slowly looked up with glowing red eyes and pointed off in a specific direction with a long blackened finger.

 

            Should he trust this manifestation again? Now that he was at the mercy of its plane with seemingly only one source of guidance…


	57. Soul of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: blood, gore, torture, pain, angst, nudity, more weird shiz and if this chapter doesn't make you emotional by the end I dunno what will

**Chapter Fifty-Seven**

_“Soul of Light”_

 

 

            Ichigo’s eyes followed the blackened manifestation’s pointing finger and saw through the falling snow. Out in the tundra was a tall cross with someone held up on it and surrounded by huge white trees that had solid white trunks and branches only at the very tops. These trees were all evenly spaced in a broad circle and their supposed leaves were growing lushly on the branches at their tops. Those trees might be tall but that cross was much taller… The poor person upon it…crucifixion was an unbelievably cruel way to die but perhaps…they were already dead. There was a somber aura to this scene. Most importantly about this new sight to Ichigo was that the weather surrounding that one spot looked like it was lighter and possibly warm.

 

            The feeling in Ichigo’s outer extremities was getting dangerously low with the temperature of his body also dropping closer and closer toward severely hypothermic. He was only mortal; it would only take so much before permanent damage – even less given the fact that he was still recovering from something similar having happened but a day ago. The cold here was reminiscent of the time that Ichigo had spent hiding in that shed, but to Ichigo personally, this being naked in the middle of a snowy place issue felt more severe despite lower winds.

 

            Trying not to think too much about how cold his bits were, Ichigo looked away from these trees and back toward the blackened manifestation with an almost immediate willingness to be grateful but the manifestation was gone…and the falling snow had already started to cover up the tome and the grave again. Ichigo stared at the lonely marker as it was just a stick up out of the snow now and sighed one long and almost sad gust of heated breath. Why did he feel sadness suddenly? Questioning himself a little Ichigo decided to completely trust the guidance and left the grave alone…maybe he wouldn’t freeze to death after all. What was the harm in trying?

 

            Coughing once or twice and shivering Ichigo started to limp toward the encircling scene of trees as quickly as he could. His cut foot burned badly and left blood on the snow. What kind of a place was this anyway? This cold and lonely plane. Was it connected to the last one? He still didn’t know but it was all definitely mystical…

 

            The snow was sticking to Ichigo’s warmer body and generously gathering in his black-stained tangerine hair as he arrived at the circular site. Without waiting to check anything out he stepped into the circle between two trees. A sudden warmth greeted him here. There were white petals which supported his feet softly instead of harshly cold snow and ice. Petals from the trees…instead of what he’d supposed from a great distance were white leaves. These petals covered the entire ground within the area, looking a little like snow themselves; Ichigo thought they were beautiful because of their perfect shapes and purest white color.

 

            Immediately he felt warmer standing inside of this circular space, his limbs and groin coming back to life again! Aaah…whew. No more horrible turtle-dick. He almost couldn’t believe it but it did burn a little to get the sensation back, though he was more grateful than ever not to have frozen to death or to have to endure the freezing ache anymore. Despite the acclimating burn the change in temperature was all Ichigo could ask for right now as he stood between two of the tall trees. Once and a while a petal dropped from their tops and found its way to the many on the ground. To find a kind of oasis at a time like this… The snow did not fall here, it was blown away from the trees yet the wind was nonexistent in this area. The petals only fell within the circle. This area, it just felt…protected. As though there was an invisible field around its borders or a dome encasing it.

 

            Though enjoying his new relief Ichigo couldn’t ignore that ominous cross ahead for long. After recovering a little more he looked up, clutching his mother’s book with his keys and flashlight still dangling off of his arm and tried not to press his cut foot too hard against the ground in balancing himself. It seemed like the cross was made out of the same wood as these trees because it was naturally white and so beautiful but it was no less a torture device and up closer now Ichigo could tell that there was fresh red blood running down the stipe and dripping from above. His eyes continued up to the person who was set upon it. _‘Grimmjow!’_ his thoughts cried. Unsurprisingly Ichigo had come to find another image of his lover though this one had clearly been suffering as a victim of this plane much like himself. Ichigo felt himself swallow a gasp and stepped out from the trees to get closer. The young man dripped a little when he moved as the snow in his hair and on his skin had turned damp when it melted and there was still some of the black matter he’d been smeared with flaking off of him.

 

            Upon this enormous cross Grimmjow was notably half transformed into that black beast he’d been exposed as before, while the other half of himself was still human-esque. Naked, as seemed the trend for visitors here, plumes of black and blueish mist rose from his bare statuesque body. His right arm and left leg were absolutely smothered in the blackness of his inhuman form while the other two were normal. From his back both of his smoking wings were tied down and his body pushed them against vertical pole of the tall cross. It looked like they were disintegrating slowly. Other small features of Grimmjow’s body were also consumed by the blackness of his bestial form, like claws on hands and feet, as well as part of his torso traveling up his neck and edging onto his face was the path that the dark transformation seemed to have taken on his trunk. Blood dripped down from the enormous nails driven clear through his wrists and into the horizontal beam of the patibulum of the cross. His red blood also flowed down the vertical stipe from his body where the wings had been damaged and where his feet were nailed in together near the ankles into the vertical pole. It was a kind of proper crucifixion and felt even more horrendously painful than it looked.

 

            Losing a good bit of color in his face to see his lover like that Ichigo was horrified when he realized that Grimmjow had been bleeding this much from what he noticed to be _nails_ driven through his joints. Could a man recover from such a thing?! If it weren’t for the visible rise and fall of Grimmjow’s diaphragm, Ichigo would have screamed out his name desperately, but because of that slight breathing he at least knew that Grimm was still alive and there was no panicked reaction…he just knew that he had to get Grimmjow the fuck down from there.

 

            Despite all of this torture and near unbearable pain Grimmjow was still conscious, but barely. He lifted his head weakly as someone moved in-between the tall trees and stepped up in front of him but they were far below on the ground. Where the trees were maybe twenty feet tall this cross was at least thirty. Grimmjow’s breathing struggled to increase just a little before he coughed, resisting a groan of agony. It was so hard to breathe like this and so painful to try and position himself so that he could inhale by pushing up with his legs…because that meant straining the single long nail through his ankles. Through a pained haze he did still recognize the tangerine of Ichigo’s hair even with the black smeared upon it. With a bold heave of his body upward Grimmjow forced himself to get to a point where he could yell. “ _DON’T!_ GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” he warned, coughing after the warning because yelling was a huge strain and he could only manage to do so with great effort.

 

            Ichigo’s face was stricken with shock and he was very convinced that he’d finally found the real Grimmjow…

 

            Through sweat and blood Grimmjow’s blue eyes widened fearfully with a blazing flare of blue and he yelled again as he held himself up painfully, “ICHIGO GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” Grimmjow had to let himself hang again and take the pressure off of his ankles. As the venous muscles on his arms and shoulders relaxed he hacked, barely catching his breath. In this horrible position he definitely knew that his arms and legs, holding his body up just enough to breathe, couldn’t do this forever. The tugging agony of the nails…the vital air forced out of his lungs… A vile someone had tried to rip off his wings a bit ago before he was nailed down and those wings were now dying and bleeding on his back; the open wounds rubbed up against the vertical stipe behind him. Useless and dying wings were only suiting to add to Grimmjow’s agony and the weight of his body as he was barely able to hold himself in a position to keep breathing. Grimmjow made a short involuntary agonizing groan every now and again.

 

            The proof that this was really Grimmjow was certainly in the fact that the man up there cared about him and would shout at the top of his lungs to warn him of danger. “I love you and I won’t leave without helping you!” Unfortunately Ichigo was stubborn despite the warning, he limped forward to help Grimmjow anyway. There must be some way he could manage. Ichigo would climb that damn cross if he scratched his nails off or splintered his hands raw, he didn’t care. He _would_ get up there and remove those nails to take Grimmjow down.

 

            Grimmjow hacked, pulling up once again on his nailed wrists so that he could get the lung capacity enough to discourage Ichigo. He failed to lift himself at first, only achieving pain that made him make a choked sort of expression because he had not the air to scream out his agony. Grimmjow’s head hung downward for a few moments and he grimaced in pain while his limbs shook. Then he tried again and this time with a gritting of his teeth he pulled his body up enough to get two words out, though it was pretty hopeless because Ichigo looked determined. _“PLEASE LEAVE!”_ the blue haired man half-yelled with a cracking voice as he had to let himself down again and felt the sharp sting of the release of agony in his lower body shift to the upper. Grimmjow’s face reflected the pure pain that he couldn’t afford to waste air to express. His chin and the other edges of his body dripped with the blood-sweat mix from his injuries.

 

            As if clued in by all of the bellowing there appeared something ahead by the base of the white and bloodstained cross which forced Ichigo to rethink what he was doing immediately. It was some kind of human-like form that stepped out from behind the cross’s base and twirled around a golden metallic scythe in one of its hands once before staking the end of the handle into the ground and standing still by the cross. This person was winged and glowing a heavenly yellow-white.

 

            Ichigo sucked in a fearful breath as he stopped limping toward the cross. He assumed that this new form was just another manifestation and judging by that weapon it wasn’t a friend to them despite its beautiful and heavenly glow.

 

            This manifestation, if that’s what it was, appeared to be built very strong and large with broad wings textured vaguely like feathers. It stood much taller than any human by a foot or so and the eyes burned a true golden color. Some illuminated circle over its head seemed like a halo.

 

            Ichigo’s mind likened it to an angel…only the angels like that which he’d heard of protected people, not stood imposingly by a cross with a man nailed to it and held scythes. Behaving like no angel he’d ever seen or imagined, Ichigo immediately didn’t trust this figure.

 

            “Leave the harlot upon his cross.” The mighty heavenly figure confirmed with that statement that it did in fact stand guarding the cross and the one upon it. The voice it had was rather androgynous.

 

            Realizing that Ichigo wasn’t going anywhere just by the blurry vision he had of Ichigo’s unmoving stance Grimmjow pulled so hard on his limbs that streams of blood started to fall from his wrists and ankles as he strained. “NO ICHIGO! RUN! FUCKIN’ _RUN!_ ” Too much pain surged through Grimmjow and he dropped down again. He’d lost way too much blood to keep struggling like this and wouldn’t be able to pull himself up like that again. Even if he could…if Grimm didn’t cool it, he’d be dead sooner rather than later. Despite an unusual origin Grimmjow was _not_ immortal, he was just desperate to get Ichigo to run away because this angelic _thing_ had put him up here _despite_ him fighting back…meaning if it could best him it would _tear_ a plain human like Ichigo apart.

 

            On Grimmjow’s powerful command even though Ichigo wanted to listen to him, if only to make Grimmjow feel better, the young man took another two limping steps forward. “He’s not a harlot and I’m not leaving here without him!” If he wanted Grimmjow back he couldn’t be a pushover.

 

            The angelic figure stood still with golden eyes wide, “You defy me, small creature?”

 

            “If you’re the one torturing Grimmjow then I sure am defying you!” Ichigo knew that he had a few good defenses presently, his runes. The white rune on his chest was still empowered and the red one was already set to go.

 

            The angelic figure lifted its scythe and spun the immaculate and glimmering weapon with a deft skill as it started to advance with a rapid stride. “Then you leave me no choice. Your life clings to you for only a short time! I pray for your unclean soul!”

 

            Ichigo waited with his breathing starting to pick up and he stayed put boldly. _‘It’s probably magick…it can’t hurt me…it can’t hurt me…it can’t..-!’_ Ichigo’s eyes squeezed shut as the angelic being arrived before him and swung its scythe clean through his body. _Through_ him..!

 

            Grimmjow couldn’t believe what he was seeing, or maybe he was so far gone that it was hallucination, but it looked like his blurry vision of Ichigo was still standing after that savage swing. There was no red splash or scream of agony. It still didn’t completely eliminate Grimmjow’s concern for the situation though.

 

            The weapon absolutely phased through Ichigo’s bare midsection without a scratch, but Ichigo swore that he felt some of his life leave him as the red rune on his left palm blazed crimson before quieting down. It had surely consumed its fee. He clenched his hand so it wouldn’t be obvious that he had the rune.

 

            The angelic being took pause before the naked mortal. “You are not an ordinary unclean visitor…” it rumbled, gripping the scythe again. “Speak with me if you have a tongue to use further. Your skin is like peeling ash and your crown is like the fiery pools but such a small and pale form below… I’d thought you to be more like this one…” it pointed a glowing arm and hand up toward Grimmjow and then relaxed its body to face its mortal opponent again. “…but you are _not_. What _are_ you?” The definition of this angelic manifestation’s features beyond just general shapes on its glowing body was mostly too bright to see, but in some places there seemed to be gleaming golden jewelry and bands. It didn’t seem to have realized that a rune had negated its attack.

 

            Barely able to steady his breathing Ichigo shook involuntarily in fear as he stared upward with a bit of a squint at the bright form. He’d been saved by his red rune but at what cost? He couldn’t let those swings happen too many more times nor other heavy attacks. Who knew how much life that rune would take from him if he was careless. With a shaking mouth Ichigo answered back, “I’m a human! And he’s a human too!”

 

            The angelic figure started to laugh in a booming voice.

 

            Ichigo took a couple of fearful and wincing steps back, that was a menacing sound. The sole of his bleeding foot was trying to clot but the constant movement on it kept tearing the wound open a little wider at a time, it was pain shooting straight up into his leg.

 

            “Only mortal and you still stand in my way?!” the angelic glowing form boomed with more laughter as it held a powerful grip on the scythe still and spread its wings. “To save this harlot no less?! He is a sinner! And so are you… I will not let you go.”

 

            Feeling like this was something he should have expected the whole time Ichigo snapped, “Well he’s _MY_ sinner, so what do you care?!” There was no damn way out of this.

 

            Hearing what was going on a furious Grimmjow gave up the last of his strength and savagely ripped one of his arms off of the cross’s horizontal beam and screamed in agony and rage as he was able to heave in a breath. Then he immediately tried to pull himself the rest of the way free. “ _AAAAGH!_ ” If he didn’t get down Ichigo was dead and he wouldn’t have that. “ _RRRRAGH!_ ” Now there was blood everywhere, on his hand, his arm and running down off of his wrists. Yanking recklessly on his right arm with his shaking and barely functional left hand that had been torn free, he had to do this before he passed out…and it was coming to that faster than he’d like…

 

            Taking his opportunity this time Ichigo turned and started to bound with a limp toward the trees and ducked behind one, peeking back around it warily. The angelic figure hadn’t followed him, it was distracted by Grimmjow getting a limb loose. The cerulean haired man had helped him anyway, he would _not_ waste this opportunity..! Quickly Ichigo observed the scene of the glowing yellow-white being stalking back toward the erected cross and Grimmjow still savagely trying to pull himself the rest of the way free. The spray and splashing of blood and the appearance of the nail still in the beam that he’d torn his mortal arm off of was gruesome. Ichigo yanked his eyes down with a mind not to stare anymore because of the horror and the sparse amount of time he’d have to use his mother’s book to solve this. Shaking but functioning Ichigo quickly started searching the worn book for offensive aid. There had to be something! Ichigo’s eyes yanked up as he heard Grimmjow scream in agony as the angelic being was flapping wings and hovering in the air before Grimmjow and driving in two more nails to pin down Grimmjow’s forearm and bicep of the arm that he’d just freed. With a deeply painful empathetic sensation surging through his body Ichigo forced himself to close his thoughts to the agonizing sounds of Grimmjow screaming bloody murder. If he didn’t use this time wisely…there would be worse things yet to come. His eyes jerked back down to the worn book, mouth trembling and tears slipping out of his eyes at the corners despite his determination. His tears actively dripped on the pages.

 

            A small wind gently blew through the warm circle of trees, slightly rustling the petal groundcover and turning the pages of the worn book over for Ichigo. In his hands the book stopped on two pages then flared up a blinding white glow before a different blinding light crashed down in the open space of the circular area away from Ichigo. The petals all over the ground were now blown back and straight up, rustling the trees for more petals. The perfect petals came showering back down like they were contained in the dome of a snow globe and once again covered the ground. The wind had faded and so too the beam of light – a lone woman remaining where it had been. Auburn wavy locks of hair cascaded over her slender shoulders and a beautiful pinkish-white traditional kimono wrapped her form delicately. She remained out in the open and floated in the air just inches above the ground with delicate bare feet dangling side by side below her kimono’s belling bottom edge. Her skin was snowy and fair and in one of her hands she held a golden staff with rings and bells as she floated in place.

 

            Ichigo gasped with an indescribable awe and looked down for a quick moment at the pages of the book that were open, no fool to the fact that this thing’s glow and the appearance of that woman were connected. The glow from the book had already faded but there was a huge and highly intricate rune across the two open pages…stained with _his_ tears. Had he called upon her by crying on this book? There was nothing else he’d done besides holding it after all…

 

            The woman in the beautiful traditional kimono lifted her golden staff and the bells upon it jingled melodically. “Cry from the heavens…” The staff’s lowest end came down toward the petal covered ground. “…the sadness of a thousand dying stars…the breath of a thousand burning suns…” and then was said a strange word like those that were written into the worn book as the woman’s staff was lowered fully and touched the ground with a loud jangle of the bells. The wind started to blow again and bared down especially hard on the angelic figure up in front of the cross.

 

            The angelic form was blustered down from the air by a hurricane-force wind and crashed into the ground with a cracking sound and flying bits of dirt and petals flew up around it.

 

            Head whirling from the pain of having two extra nails driven through much more sensitive and thick parts of his body Grimmjow’s eyes were just barely able to see this. He could feel the wind as it had gone by, but shortly thereafter he passed out from the severe shock and blood loss that his mortal untransformed half was prone to suffering. It was a short timer whether he’d be taken down soon enough to prevent his death.

 

            “You shall not harm my son…nor his happiness…” Masaki, the true spirit of Ichigo’s mother, called out while raising her jingling golden staff.

 

            Ichigo was already suspicious by the way she’d come to save him, her appearance and voice helped as clues, but Ichigo’s eyes welled up with a few tears because he knew for sure now that it was her… Even if he’d been a child he could never forget her likeness in his heart. The pages in the worn book which it was currently on gently flipped over to another two-page rune with notations under it and taking notice of the sound of pages moving again Ichigo sniffed away his happy tears and diligently read the notations on the new pages. Boldly he realized what he could do with this and the naked young man staggered out from behind the tree and placed his hand on top of the two pages in the book and yelled out a strange word followed by, “ _RENJI ABARAI!_ PLEASE HELP US!”

 

            The book flared a blinding red and there was a huge crash of crimson from above down beside the beautiful form of Ichigo’s mother as she floated, undisturbed by the arrival of a second spirit. When the volatile crash of red lighting subsided there stood Ichigo’s tattooed friend in a sharp-looking long and split-tailed red coat, bare chested showing off those eccentric tribal tattoos and a red hakama on his lower half with black flames detailed on both garments. The redhead held two huge swords in either hand with broad charcoal colored blades and sharp serrated protrusions along them; some savage and rending-looking swords that was for sure. Renji’s red mane of hair was wild and unbound.

 

            Ichigo inhaled shakily. It worked..! The rune across those two pages was for calling upon the spirits of those once known by the summoner; it could only be used to call upon those who were already dead though. In a somber but triumphant sort of way Ichigo knew just who to summon. The other rune to summon Ichigo’s mother was a little more specific and far more intricate and mysterious. Almost like she’d predicted that it could be useful for summoning her specifically…

 

            “Hey! You rang?!” Renji barked back to Ichigo with a grin that was typical of him on a good day.

 

            So surprised that Ichigo couldn’t even speak yet, both of the spirits ahead of him turned slightly to look back at their speechless summoner.

 

            “Hello Ichigo. It’s been such a long time,” Masaki mentioned with a smile. “We’re here to help you my son, tell us what to do.” Hopefully that was reassuring.

 

            “YEAH. You thought I was done didn’t you?!” Renji boasted, hoisting one sword onto his shoulder and grinning proudly. “Well I ain’t!” He faced forward. “Tell me what to cut!” …and he would tease Ichigo about being naked _later!_

 

            Masaki also faced forward, holding her staff delicately but there was no doubt that she was prepared.

 

            Feeling his speechlessness fade Ichigo swallowed and pointed ahead with resolve, “Dispatch that glowing jackass who wants to kill us!” What else could he say? “Please!” He didn’t really know any moves to tell them to execute or anything. They’d sort it out right?

 

            They would! In accordance with the young man’s order the two spirits went in heavy against the angelic menace that was just getting up out of the crater it had been blustered into. It would have otherwise fought Ichigo directly and probably slaughtered him remorselessly, but that just would _not_ be happening today.

 

            Renji roared with a battle-cry of sorts as he ran inhumanly fast with bare feet bounding over the ground at the glowing figure that was up and poised his swords. The petal groundcover kicked up in his sprint’s wake. “Howl…!” then a word that wasn’t common tongue or understandable by Ichigo’s ears and Renji’s dual swords expanded out with flexible sections between its bladed ones and he whirled toward the enemy with a deadly series of slashes that crackled with red lightning.

 

            Accompanying Renji but with a much less physical approach, Masaki was much quieter, sailing through the air with grace and holding her golden jingling staff with two hands. “Gather…!” Then another strange word spoken after that. With a loud jangle her staff was pointed at the petals on the ground and they rose and coiled around the angelic figure – rooting it to the ground.

 

            Renji’s crackling slashes fell simultaneously, cutting the figure’s scythe as it tried to guard against them.

 

            Scythe destroyed, the angelic figure blasted Renji back with a strong burst of some yellow-white energy and the redhead tumbled a few times, dropping his swords which had collapsed to their smaller selves again.

 

            Despite this Renji flipped onto his hands and feet as he skidded his tumble to a stop and ran forward again in a coordinated sprint to grab his swords again and get back into the fight.

 

            Masaki recited the same words she’d uttered before to call the wind and with an identical jangling tap of her staff against the ground another hurricane-force wind blew directly down on their opponent and continued to blow as the angelic figure resisted. The perfect white petals on the ground were once again very tossed and restless.

 

            Renji got back into it and whirled with his collapsed blades side by side, cutting a huge gouge in their opponent’s midsection while the coiled petals were still preventing it from fleeing and the wind stopped it from countering.

 

            In near giddy amazement Ichigo watched the coordinated attack. The slashed angelic figure let out a screech then burst into a shower of sparks like one would see when a blacksmith hit a piece of hot metal against an anvil. The sparks died out and the glow vanished with the vanquished figure soon after. It was gone and their fight was done. The wind calmed and everything was still again as the petals floated back down and settled once more from being disturbed. At the victorious sight Ichigo dropped where he was, sitting on the ground in dumb amazement while clutching the worn book. He was totally able to accept the fact that this had just happened…he’d been here long enough…seen enough shit and been in enough danger to just accept it, but he was so happy that things had turned out this way.

 

            After the final spark had faded Masaki turned toward the cross and, floating to it, she tapped her staff against the stipe, not having forgotten Ichigo’s suffering friend upon it.

 

            The white cross broke apart into many long pure-white ribbons and these ribbons caught the man that had been pinned up high and gently lowered him down from thirty feet. The long nails his limbs were still stuck in the sites they’d punctured and dripped with blood. Grimmjow’s body remained in its half-transformed state and the man was laid down by the elegant ribbons on a pile of them without consciousness but he was alive and breathing a little easier. The damaged wings on his back fully disintegrated and disappeared. The ribbons were still across the ground now.

 

            A weakened Ichigo was helped up as Renji came running over to get him, at the same time that Masaki was helping Grimmjow, and lifting his naked friend up off of the ground Renji hastily walked Ichigo toward the others. “C’mon! C’mon! Before you two get stuck here! We’ve gotta get you both right and outta here.” His two huge swords were hooked on his hakama’s belt and clanking as he hurried.

 

            Half stumbling along Ichigo was alright at keeping up. “Huh?!” Ichigo clung to Renji and the worn book as they arrived near Masaki and Grimmjow. His keys still dangling on his arm ‘clinked’ the whole way against that flashlight. When they stopped and Ichigo got one look at Grimmjow he sucked in a breath and held it. That gore…the nails and all of that flowing and dried blood…he’d never seen nor would probably ever see again something this horrible.

 

            Renji still supported Ichigo and patted his friend’s back. “C’mon…don’t worry!”

 

            Now brought back to a haunting thought by Renji’s voice Ichigo flipped toward the redhead and hugged Renji with a sob. “I’m sorry you died! Because of me..!” Ichigo choked up more. “I wish it hadn’t happened.”

 

            Renji blinked multiple times as Ichigo hugged him at an unexpected time. Now this sort of affection was something he didn’t figure he’d ever get again. Renji knew it was just friendly but he still appreciated it. “It was so _not_ because of you!” he corrected. “I chose to go out there and friends help friends you know so…” Now if he’d learned anything about Ichigo it was that humor could perk him up. “I’m also totally cool with this afterlife shit. Have you _seen_ these swords?” Renji let Ichigo go and shook his hips with a few clanks from his weapons.

 

            Stifling his tears Ichigo laughed a little. Renji really did look happy like this.

 

            Masaki joined them on the ground with a soft smile on her face. “My sweet boy, we really need to usher you two back to the living world or you’ll get stuck here with the spirits.”

 

            Ichigo turned from Renji who’d had his share of affection and rushed into the arms of his mother and hugged her tightly. It was really her, in spirit, but it was still her. “I love you so much mom…and we all miss you..!” Ichigo was choking up. “I’m so sorry that you died…I wish we could have you back.”

 

            Masaki hugged her son lovingly, “These things happen dear and there’s nothing to be sorry for. I love all of you too and that will never change.” She was gently helping Ichigo straighten up from that hug because Grimmjow really needed looking after.

 

            Renji thought that warm moment was just precious, and then he noticed Ichigo’s bare butt and yanked his eyes away with a blush. “We need to get him some clothes!” He’d decided not to heavily tease Ichigo after all of the emotional stuff.

 

            “There’s hardly time for clothing,” Masaki explained, letting her son go. She shuffled through the petals and ribbons over to Grimmjow who was in dire need of help immediately before he and Ichigo left them. She started by lifting the gory nails from his body and laying them aside.

 

            Grimmjow had definitely passed out from the blood loss, lacking oxygen and shocking amounts of pain because his body was just too weak with some of his human person still present. It was very good that he was half-transformed otherwise he’d be dead now because pure humans just weren’t this durable. Grimmjow had likely been unable to fully revert or progress his transformation after being pulled into this plane and encountered that damn angelic bastard before he’d been able to fix his problem, then it had attacked and impaled him.

 

            Masaki encouraged Ichigo and Renji to join her. Ichigo knelt on one side of Grimmjow, she was on the other and Renji sat at Grimmjow’s feet. As Masaki showed them, they lifted the strips of the white ribbons and began to wrap them around Grimmjow’s wounds. Two gouges in Grimmjow’s wrists, one through his left bicep, left forearm and holes through both of his ankles… Smoothing the ends down on each other the ribbons held in place all by themselves. Ichigo and Renji copied her well and Grimmjow’s horrible wounds were covered. The wounds didn’t bleed through the ribbons, in fact the bleeding from these wounds seemed to stop altogether once the ribbons were on top of them. Some of the ribbons were wrapped around Grimmjow’s torso by Masaki as well to seal up the tears and gouges on his back from the wings he’d had being tugged on. Next Ichigo’s sliced foot could use some attention and while Renji had the privilege of gently wrapping it Masaki was finishing up Grimmjow’s back.

 

            Immediately that wound on Ichigo stopped bleeding under the ribbons and the pain vanished. Once his foot was bandaged Ichigo sat quietly with his legs tucked under him, the worn book, flashlight and keys on his lap and his hands resting on the cover of the book while looking down at Grimmjow – just glad to see that he’d survived this hell. Wondering something additionally Ichigo looked up at his mother. “Can we talk a little before I take Grimmjow and leave? Is there enough time for that?”

 

            “I suppose there is a little time.” She knew it would break Ichigo’s heart if he couldn’t talk to them for just a few minutes.

 

            The first question was the easiest, Ichigo pointed directly at Grimmjow. “Do you know what he is?” Since she knew so much about magick… This could save them from having to scrounge for answers.

 

            Renji listened quietly and respectfully. He’d been told that Grimmjow had tried to save his life so he owed his man a great amount of respect. Renji also still cared a great deal about Ichigo so he gave his friend even more respect and just let the two relatives talk together for now.

 

            “The descendant of a fallen angel,” Masaki explained. “Like one which has been cast out of heaven, only your friend seems to be half-human as well. Most humans go mad with an obsession-like adoration toward these types of angels because they’re very tempting by nature…and as is typical with angels they are very beautiful. It makes sense to the human mind to be drawn to such.”

 

            Ichigo was immediately nervous. This would explain the unreasonable amounts of money and riches Grimm’s mother had given to his father which Grimmjow had mentioned when they were in the old farmhouse…and Grimm’s mother going crazy enough to be committed to an asylum as the man had also mentioned. Though…did it apply to how hard and fast he’d fallen for Grimmjow upon sight? What about the rest of their relationship? Ichigo wasn’t about to stop loving Grimmjow on the spot but the idea of becoming unreasonably obsessed with him was a fair bit scary.

 

            “You don’t seem heavily afflicted by this. He must have opened his human attributes to you. His heart is capable of more than just drawing you in with lust and desire.” Masaki gently lifted her son’s worried and doubtful face with gentle hands. “As long as he acts human you’ll be just fine, my son.”

 

            Ichigo looked relieved, “I really hope you didn’t actually see how he and I met…”

 

            Renji cocked a tattooed brow up. Now that was a fact he’d personally be interested to hear.

 

            “I only see your auras. Perhaps that’s for the best,” Masaki admitted, not going to pry into her son’s private and personal business. “But I’m glad that you have him, Ichigo.”

 

            “Aw man…” Renji was hoping for a story, he hunched in slight disappointment.

 

            Ichigo remembered that he needed to keep talking else he would run out of time. “What was thing that hurt Grimmjow?”

 

            “A heavenly angel,” Masaki explained curtly. It was as though she disliked them…

 

            “Won’t you be in trouble for that?!” Ichigo croaked. “Killing an angel I mean.” He was genuinely worried right now.

 

            Renji piped up, “Heeeeell no! We don’t answer to those glowin’ assholes.” He crossed his arms gruffly. It was almost like Renji didn’t care for them either… “Also, we didn’t kill it. We sent it back to its domain.”

 

            Ichigo looked very confused.

 

            Masaki could see that. “We’re unlike them, as spirits we are guardians to this world and _all_ of its planes. This is _our_ domain. Angels’ domains are the shimmering expanse of heaven and the underworld. When you die, Ichigo, you don’t have to go to either unless you are forcibly taken there or sent to one by us. We regulate the spirits, good and bad. The angels, both lorn and heavenly, know better than to invade our domains but they do it anyway looking for spirits to steal.”

 

            Ichigo paused and thought for a moment. “So that angel was an intruder…and you two were just kicking him out?”

 

            “Basically yeah. Now c’mon! Hurry up and ask your damn questions before it’s too late to send you bums back!” Renji croaked. “Not that we don’t want you here it’s just…” Renji now looked bashful, “I just don’t want you to get stuck here is all.”

 

            “It’s ok, I understand Renji,” Ichigo mentioned with a smile which was returned by the redhead when Renji peeked up to see how Ichigo’s expression was. Ichigo looked at his mother again. “Just one more question. I saw a dark manifestation out in the snow, black and smoky with red eyes. Kind of scary but it got me here, to this plane and to this exact spot.”

 

            “That was probably his father’s tarnished spirit,” Masaki gestured to Grimmjow. “Since this snowy plane is very close to a deceased lorn angel’s home. His father would be the only one around. It’s probably tethered itself here to hide and avoid being sent anywhere or stolen back to the underworld. Do not fear such a spirit, it is only trying to atone and would be rather powerless.”

 

            Well that explained the sad feeling he got when he’d seen the grave and all of that creepy stuff about it. Ichigo nodded, “There was an evil spirit following me here-” Reminded of something immediately relating to this Ichigo looked worried all of the sudden, remembering that the white rune needed to be renewed. It was gone! “Oh no…”

 

            Masaki knew which runes her son had used without her telling him. “Do not worry. With us here no evil will come to you and you won’t need runes for protection,” she reassured. “May I see your hand Ichigo? I think you know which one I mean.”

 

            “Oh…ok.” Ichigo raised his left hand, palm up and there was the scarring red rune which he had carved into himself.

 

            Renji leaned in to see. “What the hell?” It was a freaking scar that was clearly of intentional design. “Ichigo what’d you do?!”

 

            Ichigo frowned, “What I had to, to get here safely!”

 

            “This is a very costly rune to be using, my son.” Masaki lifted her hand and placed it over Ichigo’s palm and pressed down, covering the rune. There was a dull glow between their hands and then she lifted hers away. Ichigo’s rune was no longer a scar. It was red ink and it looked different, specifically an arrow was drawn through it with the head pointing toward Ichigo’s fingers. “I can’t give you back the years it may have already taken but I did just change it so that it will also rebound magickal harm to your enemies and will only cost weeks out of your life…however the rune itself is a little weaker now. It can’t protect you from just anything. Be _very_ careful with this red rune Ichigo…it can _kill you_ if you’re careless.”

 

            Ichigo took back his hand to look at it and sighed. That was also a bit scary. “Thanks mom, I will. Um…I know I said that was the last one, and we’re running out of time, but can I ask just one more question?”

 

            Masaki put her hand on Ichigo’s head of tangerine hair and ruffled it. “I suppose!” She was enjoying talking to her son too, she wished it could be for longer and about everything that she’d missed out on since he’d grown up from being a small boy.

 

            Ichigo smiled warmly, that made him pretty happy. “I passed through some black void place before I landed in the snow here. Grimmjow was in the void too but he knocked me into some nasty stuff so I don’t think it was really him.” He was pretty sure that some of the gross black matter was even still in his hair.

 

            Masaki looked at Renji, “You know this one. Go ahead.”

 

            Renji scooted up and tried to look more learned, even though he really did understand this concept to a ‘t’. “That’s the barrier between planes. It’s really bleak because nothing’s supposed to live there. If you try to stay there long it kills ya because it pulls your essence apart slowly. You always have to pass through that barrier in order to get from plane to plane which is nasty because it absorbs ya and spits you out. Everyone sees the person closest to their heart before they’re absorbed and spat out. It’s not exactly a fun process…”

 

            “What if you don’t have anyone close to your heart?” Ichigo prodded.

 

            Renji squinted, “Then I guess you see yourself?” He looked at Masaki.

 

            “Yes. That’s that. I hate to say so, but unfortunately if we don’t hurry you two along you really will be stuck here so we have to stop the questions. I’m sorry Ichigo.” She tried to be gentle about that, after all it was her son and they hadn’t seen each other for years and Renji was her son’s friend and he had just passed. That would be hard on Ichigo she thought.

 

            Ichigo smiled anyway. “It’s ok mom. Will I ever see you two again?” He looked between them and his eyes last landed on Renji.

 

            Renji gestured at Masaki, “She’s the expert, and you said only one more question! That was like…two!”

 

            Masaki placed her hands neatly on her kimono covered lap. “It’s possible, though we won’t be alive as you knew us. You should never try to casually visit us in this plane Ichigo, do you understand? If you spend too much time here your spirit won’t be able to go back eventually.” She stood up gracefully, smoothing her kimono and lifting up her staff with a jingle of the bells.

 

            Ichigo gave a disappointed sigh.

 

            Renji had jumped up. “Hey! We’re livin’ pretty good here and once we clean up all of this snow from that damn angel messing this place up everything’ll be back to a normal cool fall! I love leaves. They BURN.” Apparently Renji liked to set leaves on fire. Probably with his new lightning ability.

 

            Ichigo was a combination of amused and surprised. Once they cleaned up the snow? “The angel caused it to snow?! Even in my plane?”

 

            “Yes. They are connected and balance here means balance there,” Masaki confirmed. “Come on now…”

 

            Getting the feeling that he really couldn’t delay this anymore, Ichigo crouched up close to Grimmjow and hoped that he would have the strength… He placed his belongings on Grimmjow’s stomach and with wobbling legs he reached under the unconscious man and lifted Grimmjow up like a bride with a couple of the ribbons unintentionally caught between his arms and Grimmjow’s body.

 

            Grimmjow’s clawed limbs dangled limply and his face was peacefully still. The dark and ash-like smoke rising from his partially transformed limbs and body harmlessly touched Ichigo’s bare flesh. It was actually a little warm…

 

            Masaki gestured to open air and a pair of shoji doors phased into view and opened slowly with a brilliant white light between them.

 

            While Ichigo was standing next to Renji watching as his mother opened the way Ichigo leaned a little toward the redhead and mumbled, “Who did you see in the void?”

 

            Renji flushed and crossed his arms with a squint, “Who do you think?!” Ichigo.

 

            Ichigo looked surprised and then smiled with a small laugh. That actually meant something to him. “I’ll be sure to get you the coolest gravestone I can find and burn incense there all the time.”

 

            Renji puffed up his chest, “And it better be some fierce incense too!”

 

            Nodding with a smile Ichigo agreed to that. “Yeah it will be. Thank you Renji.”

 

            “Yeeeeeah you’re welcome. Good luck,” the redhead replied, beaming.

 

            Taking a huge breath before choking up his hold on Grimmjow and walking forward toward the opened gate, Ichigo stopped before going through and looked toward Masaki who had started to float gracefully again just beside the way out of the spiritual plane. “And I’ll burn more incense and have dad smoke an extra cigarette for you too when we get back.”

 

            The mother beamed and laughed softly, “That would be lovely Ichigo. Your father always did look dapper with a cigarette. Please tell him and Karin and Yuzu that I love them very much in whatever way you can find to be appropriate. Don’t scare them with spirit stories!”

 

            Ichigo smiled wide, already watching his mother with those huge hazel eyes. She always did make him smile even when he was the worst off. “I’ll be careful not to. Thanks mom, I really love you. Um where will we end up after this?”

 

            “I love you too Ichigo. Hmm…probably close to where you started.” Masaki floated over and kissed Ichigo on the forehead.

 

            “Tell Grimmjow I don’t hate him!” Renji would always be a fair bit jealous though.

 

            “Will do!” Managing to smile instead of cry Ichigo looked toward the open doors and took another huge breath before he walked into the light with Grimmjow safely in his grasp…

 

            Renji sniffed a tear back as his friend disappeared, still trying to be tough.

 

            Masaki smiled warmly, very glad that she’d been able to help Ichigo again after all these years.

 

            They were both going to miss him.


	58. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: nudity, transition chapter is for transition!

**Chapter Fifty-Eight**

_“Return”_

 

 

            The next thing Ichigo would come to recall was tumbling down through cloudy air until he hit a wall of white with give and laid still for a time as his sore body recovered from what he assumed was a long fall. From collective strain he was phasing between conscious and not at first. Still butt-naked with his flesh in bumps and shivering, Ichigo was cold again and face-down in snow right next to Grimmjow who, on the trip between planes, had shed his half-transformed state but hadn’t regained consciousness. Before impact Ichigo had tried to shield the man from wherever they were going to land but Grimmjow’s larger body was difficult to protect. Still he’d managed to hold onto Grimm at least until they hit the snow and were forced apart by the impact.

 

            Also lacking clothing of any sort, Grimmjow was laying on his back like a muscular ragdoll in the depressed white and ash-flecked snow. He looked quite serene and still. The white ribbons were still wrapped around his injuries almost like decorative bands.

 

            Around the pair of naked fellows were burning pieces of the farmhouse which had been blown apart some time close to their return. It seemed like something had surged through it with enough force to blow the floors, walls and roof apart in so many directions that the foundation was barely even there anymore.

 

            As his consciousness began to stabilize more Ichigo’s hands grasped at the snow in clumps with many small and quick breaths that started to melt the snow up by his face faster. It helped get more air to his mouth and nose, not exactly intentional though. Ichigo’s head was reeling over his horrible soreness and facts as he fought to stay conscious…like finally understanding more of why Grimmjow was so damn durable and that he’d just visited two _dead_ spirits – people that he thought he would never see again. As he lay Ichigo’s vision was going from defined to blurry like a camera lens moving in and out of focus. This whole event had been so bittersweet he could _taste_ it, lingering and difficult to swallow. Turtle-dick was also back again, his least favorite thing, and Ichigo was starting to feel really uncomfortable because of that. Perhaps because of the discomfort he stirred more then turned his head toward Grimmjow with a weak lean and reached out to touch the man’s chest with a quivering hand.

 

            Out cold, Grimmjow was breathing shallowly but he was warm and thankfully he was alive.

 

            Ichigo breathed a small pluming sigh of relief. He was grateful to be alive himself too; after all, he was far less durable than Grimmjow. Still…there was so much that Ichigo felt like he should have talked about while he was with Masaki and Renji. It tickled his thoughts. He could only hope that he’d get the chance to have their company again, since his mother had strictly warned him not to visit their plane. Gazing at the unconscious man beside him Ichigo’s curiosity wandered to his runes. Where they still there? Looking down the white one had definitely disappeared from his chest. Ichigo turned over his left hand and squinted; the red lines, like tattoos were almost too faint to see against his fair and pinkish skin. Running out of things to keep his mind focused on Ichigo’s own consciousness started to waver again from being so exposed to the cold. The bare young man moved right up beside his lover and clung to Grimm’s bare, warm body with shivers and chattering teeth hoping for just a moment of rest so that he could get the strength to move them. Ichigo was just not strong enough to stand up right now…

 

            Grimmjow wouldn’t have even known the difference, unaware in his persistent state. Like a sleeping beauty among the falling and fallen snow…

 

~

 

            Burdened by much stress once they’d arrived, Nel and Nnoitora were terrified for Grimmjow and Ichigo’s safety, especially when they saw a ton of blood on the snow in front of what they recognized to be Ichigo’s car. Falling snow hadn’t been able to cover up the stark contrast of crimson. They also found Ichigo’s grey beanie back by the trunk but no sign of the two people they’d figured to be out here somewhere. The runic carvings on the snowy and icy ground which Ichigo had made were covered though and so were all footprints – thus these clues went unnoticed. Bellowing both names and searching for a half an hour through hellish snow and freezing cold weather Nnoitora and Nel actually found the pair of lovers huddled under a thin layer of snow about a hundred yards behind the foundation of the blown apart farmhouse. Pieces of walls and floors smoldered with fire and falling snow sizzled on the flames as Nel carried Ichigo on her back and Nnoitora hauled Grimmjow much the same back through the deeply snowy property and toward the Silverado truck. Both seemed to be sleeping now. Nnoitora’s shotgun clacked against his leg as the stock was tied to his hip with the safety on. It was almost too easy to just have to carry this trouble-prone pair to safety, but not once did he need to use the rifle.

 

            When everything had been put in order, and there were a couple of pain in the ass measures to take, Nnoitora positioned his truck so that they could drive back the way they’d come. Traffic be damned, it was the only way he knew of out of here and he wanted to be gone before the police arrived. If questioned later he and Nel planned on using the excuse that they were just out for a drive. Nnoitora started driving up the snowy country road, leaving the wrecked farmland behind and pulling Ichigo’s Mazda6 with his towbar. A manual car was so much easier to deal with in this situation…and for the weather, no wonder they’d driven Ichigo’s ride out here.

 

            Meanwhile, Nel was holding onto Ichigo with care as his limp body shared the passenger’s seat with her and her arms kept him from falling over. The heat in the truck was up and she was trying to help his body recover by rubbing against it over the clothes that they’d found for him in a duffle bag of the Mazda. After they’d been traveling for about forty minutes Ichigo made a few sounds and rolled his head side to side and Nel hugged him protectively. “He’s awake…” she mumbled clinging to him with a sort of motherly joy.

 

            Though he had to keep a sharp eye on the road to ensure that he was driving safe in the hazardous weather, Nnoitora spared a glance over. “Well if ya keep smotherin’ ‘im he won’ be fer long, toots…” He was teasing but he was actually glad too.

 

            Panicked at first when he didn’t quite know who had a hold of him, Ichigo squirmed until he realized by the voices. “Nnoitora?! Nel?! What are you-”

 

            “Quiet down…ya don’ need ta be so loud. Grimmjow tol’ me ta come ‘n see if everything was alrigh’,” Nnoitora informed. “Didn’ know we were gonna hafta majorly save yer asses though. Yer lucky ya didn’ git fuckin’ frostbite from bein’ out there in the snow ya idjit. Ya two better nah’a been fuckin’ out there jus’ fer fun or I’ll skin ya alive.”

 

            Ichigo’s vision was coming around and less blurry the more he woke up. It was so warm in here…it felt really nice. “We weren’t…” Then Ichigo realized that part of his warmth was thanks to the fact that he was now wearing some clothes, a black jacket and some weird looking black silk pants and plain white socks…what the hell? “I could have sworn I was naked…” he remembered while pawing at the garments, they were really big on him.

 

            “Good, an’ ya were naked ‘till we found some clothes in a bag from yer car. Also, Grimm’s ‘n back. Hasn’ woken up yet though but ‘e’s alive if ya were worried.”

 

            Immediately concerned on some level Ichigo twisted his body to look in the backseat of the cab and there was Grimmjow just as Nnoitora had said. The man was laying across the whole backseat with his legs bent up a bit. Nnoitora or Nel had covered him up with some thick blankets and rolled up something clothy to put under his head. Grimmjow’s body was slightly jostled as the truck moved over the snowy roads but seatbelts held him in place so that he wouldn’t fall down. Ichigo felt a tug on his chest, he was hoping that Grimmjow would have been awake by now, but at least the exotic man was comfortable.

 

            Nnoitora noticed, with a couple glances how Ichigo was reacting to this. “I think as long as ‘e’s breathin’ ya shouldn’ worry.”

 

            Easier said than done but Nnoitora’s effort to calm him was appreciated. Feeling Nel release him fully from her grasp, and pat him kindly, Ichigo sighed with a gentle frown. Suppose he should have expected things to not be so easy as just walking away from what they’d been through but it would have been nice for a change… Ichigo noticed that all of the stuff out of the Mazda seemed to be back there on the floor next to the backseat. His mother’s book! Ichigo’s eyes whipped around frantically and saw its edge sticking up out of the duffle bag. Thank god… He visibly sighed with relief.

 

            “I ain’t sure wha’ ya were doin’ out there z’actly Ichigo…” Nnoitora started in, “…but ya migh’ wanna be more careful nex’ time.” It wasn’t like Nnoitora and Nel hadn’t seen the book that Ichigo had with him but it was a strange thing to find.

 

            “I’m sorry that we put you both through trouble to get here.”

 

            “Not at all! Ichigo…we care about you and Grimmjow, but we just want to be sure that you’re safe well beyond today,” Nel assured sweetly, still sharing the passenger’s seat with Ichigo’s rump.

 

            “Like when we canno’ be there…” Nnoitora extended in clarification.

 

            It already made sense to Ichigo, not all of the time would there be someone to pull them out of a dangerous situation. “I’ll try to be more careful.” He meant it. Now Ichigo realized that the truck was traveling on the highway by all of the traffic around them which he could see out of the windows and that his red car was traveling behind the truck! “You towed my car?!”

 

            Nnoitora grunted. “It’s nah like I was gonna leave it there fer some fucker ta come along an’ strip it fer parts. Couldn’ fix it on the spot either. I’d leave it fer Grimm ta fix bu’ I doubt ‘e’ll be fixin’ anythin’ anytime soon wit’ the way he is, so I’ll take yer car by my garage an’ see wha’s wrong there.” This wasn’t kissing ass or being overly concerned, Nnoitora was just the right amount concerned and he wanted things to work out for his good friend. Ichigo was young, lots of life was waiting, and Nnoitora would be damned if he didn’t keep supporting his friend’s progress toward that life – no matter where it went. While he care a fair bit about Grimmjow, Ichigo had been around Nnoitora and Nel for years longer.

 

            “Well, thank you. I think that will help him a lot.” Ichigo had stayed turned backwards on the side of the passenger’s seat and watching Grimmjow. He did start to wonder how had Grimmjow warned them about this. When? He was glad that Grimmjow had done that but the fuzzy details bothered him. It didn’t take long for Ichigo to take initiative and creep back to sit on the floor by Grimmjow’s side. He put his cheek against one of the man’s shoulders and an arm up and over Grimm’s slowly rising and falling chest, cuddling up to his unconscious lover. Since it was right in front of his face like this, Ichigo stared at the sleeve of the black jacket that he was wearing. The scent on it was heavily Grimmjow’s…in fact this was the same jacket that Grimmjow had let him wipe his bloody nose on so long ago when they’d first met; he’d never forget that, it was just before their dangerous cruise down the highway in the Lambo. It was weird to be sentimental about a plain jacket. With a soft smile Ichigo shut his eyes and couldn’t help drifting off to sleep right there because he was warm and comfortable but also still extremely weary. He had no doubts or worries that Grimmjow would wake up from this, it was just a question of when.

 

            Nel glanced back at the pair with a gentle smile and realized that Ichigo had drifted off to sleep comfortably. “I’ve never seen anything so treacherous and sweet at the same time.” Nel covered her mouth as she giggled hopelessly.

 

            Nnoitora snorted, “Ya ‘ave clearly never sucked on a tequila flavored lollipop a’fore…”

 

            “It’s true love Nnoitora!” Nel was absolutely giddy with the prospect of this being so genuinely sweet. “Your bad tequila jokes aside…what do you actually think they were doing out there..? With that strange book…” The magick book hadn’t left her thoughts. The reasons for having it were so not at all obvious.

 

            Nnoitora shrugged with a shake of his head and eyes glued to the highway. “I’m sure it’s got a wild story behind it, but I ain’t sure.” It also probably depended on whose book it was and they didn’t know that it was Ichigo’s.


	59. Puddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: lots of information and some info given in summary

**Chapter Fifty-Nine**

_“Puddles”_

 

 

_[Two weeks later…the unusual snow has melted and autumn is back in swing as it should be…]_

            For Ichigo the world slowed down for an entire week while Grimmjow lay unconscious for _seven days_ at their home clinic after returning to the mortal plane. The man was more or less comatose. After additional explanation from Isshin about when Grimmjow had been in a coma for three months before, they both supposed that this was Grimmjow’s unnatural body’s way of resting and restoring itself. Afterall it had happened before. So to both it was not a question of ‘if’ but ‘when’ Grimmjow would wake from his slumber.

 

            Over the course of these first seven days the police had come by once or twice to try and ask Ichigo some questions about his high school’s incident because he’d been missing in the school building while all of the trouble had happened outside where another student’s corpse had been found – who was someone that teachers claimed Ichigo was close to. The police had probably talked to a lot of students already however they didn’t get to talk to Ichigo yet; he was definitely not in a place to be talking about dead friends. The intuitive father that Isshin was he could tell that his son wasn’t ready for this yet and chased the officers away for now, knowing also that the story couldn’t possibly be an appropriate one to be telling authorities and lying to engineer another story would be even worse. No statements. No comments. No cops. Not right now.

 

            Genuinely still recovering, Ichigo was very grateful to have his dad supporting him and being understanding. It couldn’t be easy to be in Isshin’s position; however news that Ichigo had seen Masaki again, even just her spirit, had brought happy tears to Isshin’s eyes among the stresses. On the weekend all four of the Kurosaki family members had gone to Masaki’s gravesite and burned incense while they spent a good portion of the day there. It was one of the rare occasions when Isshin enjoyed a smoke because once upon a time his late wife had told him that he looked cool with a burning cigarette. The scene of the family gathered was poetic. Paperwork had been started for dealing with Renji’s remains but it was difficult for the hospital to handle because the young man’s closest relatives were ignoring the documents and expenses at first; apparently Renji’s family wasn’t very close to him. Once the papers were through though things could start to happen, Isshin and Ryuken would make sure of it, then Renji could have a nice grave too and his friends could visit him. As Ichigo spent the day with his own family by Masaki’s grave he thought about his friends from school and missed them. He thought about Grimmjow too…wishing that the man could have been here for all of this. The support would have been nice, but maybe this time it was Grimmjow’s turn to have a peaceful break from all of the chaos.

 

            During those same first seven days Isshin had received some strange mail about a huge sum of money that he needed to settle in court for because this letter implicated that his care, or lack thereof, had given rise to an incident at Florentine Central Hospital. Of course the authority calling him out were the administration of the hospital and Sosuke Aizen at the head of this. After what he’d firsthand seen the CEO and dark-skinned assistant trying to do to harm and drag Grimmjow out of the hospital the night that he’d found Grimm and Nnoitora in the lobby and with all of the news about the nasty behaviors visited upon Grimmjow by Aizen, Isshin was anything but surprised to see Aizen still trying to press anything related to this. Stress not shock. Maybe the CEO had it out for him a little too, for being a witness. Isshin immediately shuffled the papers of the letter to his friend across the street, the retired federal judge Mister Yamamoto, who gladly said that he would take a stern look at this sinister letter. It was no small matter that Isshin’s reputation as a doctor and financial status would be slashed if he lost a suit over this kind of an issue, so a wise review of this was pivotal and Isshin did not tell a word of it to his family; it seemed to only be his issue to deal with and children should not worry for their parent over such things.

 

            When the first seven days had come and gone, one afternoon while Ichigo was attending school on the first day of the next week, Grimmjow had sat up in the hospital bed of the Kurosaki’s home clinic with a gasp and coughing as he came around to consciousness again. His head flooded with vague and painful memories and he’d hacked up some vaguely tar-like black substance in coughing violently. The white ribbons, which had been left alone over his wounds the entire time, now fell off. His injuries swirled with a black mist under his skin and then they were superficially _gone_ …as though they’d never been… Pulling IVs and catheters out of himself Grimmjow stumbled through the Kurosaki house alone and not finding a sole home there the man let himself into the upstairs bathroom and cleaned up; a bath, because he could barely keep himself standing, and a shave at the least. It didn’t feel hygienic or fresh to wake up after a week of nothing but lying in a bed – it really didn’t. Feeling too nauseous to eat anything yet Grimmjow borrowed Ichigo’s bed and burrowed into the young man’s covers and fell asleep against the masculine and vague strawberry scented pillows and blankets. It was comfort to be right up against things that smelled like Ichigo until the young man returned. Grimmjow was too drained to even consider how long he’d been out or what might’ve happened during that time.

 

            Needless to say that day when Ichigo arrived home from school and checked the clinic, as he did first thing every time he came back from school, he was stunned to find Grimmjow missing from there. Alarmed at first, Ichigo ran through the house looking all over for the man, but relieved and happy to locate Grimmjow fast asleep in his bed. That was not expected, but was one of the best surprises. Ichigo’s bright smile seeing that could have lit a thousand suns. That ‘when’ he knew to wait for had finally come and when the man came around to wake up and see Ichigo he got a lot of gentle treatment. Once Grimmjow perked up even more Ichigo gave him a long and sensual session in bed at his request, though it was honestly for the both of them.

 

            Ichigo’s injuries and soreness had evaporated almost the same; fortunately thanks to the white ribbon on his previously injured foot and time Ichigo had recovered almost as well as Grimmjow.

 

            In this, the second week after their strange adventure into the spiritual plane, more _‘things’_ started to become apparent… In terms of work Grimmjow recognized fully the stupidity in ever going back to that damned shady club, H.E.X., and he would not be going back there ever again regardless of the benefits he’d be giving up. He felt like a fool for ever doing so before but people made mistakes. Not only did he hate the idea of working there but it was too risky. That was not a classy place, it was shady, and he clearly couldn’t handle that increasing shade anymore. Its name had started to seem exceptionally fitting; there really was a hex on it. Acknowledging the fact that strip teasing at H.E.X. sucked, Grimmjow did admit undeniably that he _at least_ still liked to pole dance as a sport. Maybe stripping for a classier audience was fine too. He had a real talent and an enjoyment for it if it was more professional, so to keep limber and help his body get back into the swing he’d been driving to a pole dancing studio in the city often which he managed to pay for with some of the slim amount of money he had in savings. In exchange for teaching some of their patrons what he knew in classes the studio cut him a very fair deal on price and paid him for his time teaching. It was a good deal any way one looked at it because while Grimmjow gained a little bit of money back the more he taught, he also had access to a very nice dance studio just for himself. The majority of people he taught were women and while they were inspired by his teaching the few men who attended seemed to be even more inspired to see that this muscular man, just like a lot of them, was capable of flexing himself around despite the inflexibility that could come to someone musclebound and masculine. Grimmjow was living proof of male grace. The talented entertainer was also very good at teaching with a positive attitude. Dare say…Grimmjow even enjoyed teaching this more than anything else he’d ever done for work before!

 

            At the same time though, despite another opportunity to work for _more_ money at the garage where Nnoitora did, Nnoitora had called during this second week and the lanky man warned Grimmjow about something. Another mechanic who worked at his garage, a huge dude named Yammy Largo who was one of the names that the pale skinned man Ulquiorra had been forced to give up when they’d gone for the Lambo, was _missing_ and Nnoitora’s boss and owner of the garage, Starrk, was _pissed_. While Starrk himself seemed to be a good guy, outside of that Yammy was heavily implicated to be working with whatever shady business was going on around Grimmjow; it wasn’t a sure thing whether Starrk knew about that or not. What was sure as shit though was that the mere subject was very touchy at present. Nnoitora had no idea that Grimmjow had actually _killed_ Yammy, whereas Grimmjow knew full well that he’d dismembered a big guy just like that, but just the fact that Yammy’s name had come up in the cerulean haired man’s business was enough to make Nnoitora nervous – who didn’t know about the killing. Telling Grimmjow to stay away from Starrk’s garage was at least a friendly warning, and thankfully Nnoitora wasn’t about to tell anyone anything compromising but the lanky man was starting to ask Grimmjow more questions about what was going on because whatever this was exactly felt like it was getting bigger than just an attack on one man.

 

            Nnoitora had a hunch but to Ichigo, Grimmjow and Isshin specifically – who was being kept fully in the know now – this problem was starting to get very explicitly complicated, like a web as it started showing the full-spread of its reach. As discovered by themselves and others, people across Florentine City and Karakura Town were being moved like chess pieces by this one powerful and influential man: Sosuke Aizen. They’d pieced together all of the people that they’d seen interacting and Aizen was at the root. Just how extensive was this web and what was its goal? The web itself had always been complex, just not noticed until more events and people surfaced as proof, but as that complexity was starting to really bleed through to the lives of the undeserving, Florentine City especially was starting to look especially ‘red’.

 

            Since the sinister letter of earlier gave up Grimmjow’s and his own name Isshin discussed it privately with Grimmjow after Mister Yamamoto had things to say about the letter and the news was _not_ good. The thousands of dollars that had sustained Grimmjow’s body for three months at the hospital were being chucked at Isshin because of a claim that stated ‘it was in Doctor Kurosaki’s interest to secretly and illegally release his patient, Mister Jaegerjaquez, as the afore mentioned patient retains personal relations with a member of the Kurosaki family’. The sickest part was probably that this ruthless hospital CEO, a jealous Aizen, was using a _goodly_ doctor’s son’s romantic relationship to try and drag the father down – probably so that Aizen could claw his way to Ichigo. Heaven or hell only knew what that jealous and vile man would do to the Kurosaki family if Isshin wasn’t helping to protect them with his presence. After all the Kurosakis and Grimmjow had no idea that this supernatural-obsessed CEO was conditioned to orchestrate murders as sacrifices to have his way…and Aizen had had a lot more people killed than they knew about…

 

            Absolutely ashamed that becoming a part of Ichigo’s life was hurting more and more people Grimmjow apologized profusely to Isshin for this issue coming down squarely on the father’s head next. The cerulean haired man swore up and down that he didn’t have the money or insurance to pay for the fees else he would _immediately_. Fortunately Isshin wasn’t about to pressure him for money and seemed to believe that this could be solved in other ways. Resourcefully Grimmjow came forward the next day with documents proving that Aizen had paid for his entertainment, personal interests, and the document he’d taken from Szayel a long time ago that seemed to be for the purpose of waving all his medical fees and had Grimmjow’s forged signature. These pieces of evidence were priceless because they could be used to prove that Aizen himself had ‘personal interests’ in this _not random_ runaway patient.

 

            Copies of all of these papers went straight to Mister Yamamoto with thanks such as home-cooked meals and a few bottles of top-shelf whiskey, thoughtful gifts suggested by Isshin. A couple of days later the diligent retired judge called and arranged to talk with _just_ Isshin and Grimmjow at home. Isshin sent Ichigo alone out on a long errand to the store. When Mister Yamamoto arrived the elderly judge explained that he was still working with their evidence but he had some very disturbing related news to share. Sosuke Aizen owned Florentine Central, already known, but the wealthy and powerful CEO also owned a company called ‘Revelation-Silver Enterprises’ which was buying up whole farming towns on the outskirts such as, unsurprisingly, Faltsville in its entirety. The very same place where Ichigo and Grimmjow had nearly been killed and witnessed some exceptionally unpleasant shit – to put it mildly. Additionally Revelation-Silver was buying up independent businesses within cities and towns such as the club H.E.X. for purposes undisclosed. Revelation-Silver had owned these and more for some _years_ , and unfortunately Grimmjow had been unknowingly working for business which Aizen’s company owned; their meeting was probably not even true chance. There wasn’t a sheet in existence whiter than Grimmjow’s handsome face when he heard that. Additionally Mister Yamamoto wisely warned these men to be extremely careful about keeping this matter private for as long as possible because Aizen surely had powerful friends in legal places.

 

            After learning all he could from Mister Yamamoto’s informative digging, Grimmjow was starting feel the need to look over his shoulder every time he walked down the street in the city or parked in populated places. With Nnoitora, who seemed really insistent to continue helping Grimmjow, they’d moved everything the exotic man owned out of the penthouse which H.E.X., indirectly Aizen, was paying for Grimmjow to live in. That ‘too good to be true’ veil was really coming off. It was better to be normal and alive than excessively rich Grimmjow now really felt. They accomplished this move in a matter of a day with Nnoitora’s Silverado and a rented truck putting all of Grimmjow’s belongings into the old loft above the garage and closed-down tool store in the older part of Florentine where Grimmjow had lived before the penthouse. Nnoitora just sat down with Grimmjow for a while afterward. They talked about already mutually know things regarding Aizen; Grimmjow didn’t tell Nnoitora anything about the sinister letter nor the supernatural things but he did mention that he knew that Aizen was a bigger shot than he’d thought. To Nnoitora this was the worst problem he’d ever heard of, and while he was still rather protective of Ichigo, he had to admit that he’d been pretty protective of Grimmjow too – who was a worthy and worthwhile soul. Then they shot the breeze about unrelated nonsense for a few hours; masculine therapy. It was disappointing that he wouldn’t have Grimm at Starrk’s garage, Nnoitora certainly had to admit that. The cerulean haired man would likely go to bat for Nnoitora if needed the same as Nnoitora had done for him. As they enjoyed each other’s company they were now actually what one could rightfully consider friendly.

 

            Unfortunately for Grimmjow the stress wouldn’t end just by some friendly talk-therapy so to speak. Facing a powerful opponent like Aizen was unnerving and despite all of his efforts to hide his anxiety Ichigo _did_ notice in ways like Grimmjow drinking more alcohol, the man was especially affectionate most of the time, he did not completely relax after sex or asked for it even more often, Grimm was always needlessly working on or tinkering with their cars for hours repetitively when Ichigo would visit the garage where Grimm lived, and other smaller behaviors. Grimmjow was obviously seeking comfort without explicitly admitting to his anxiety. Interestingly the cerulean haired man seemed to be stubbornly refusing to get horribly depressed or be idle and had been coping with his situation better than most, who would have probably just given up and moved away. To his advantage though Grimmjow had something rare, an anchor to life, that was Ichigo and Ichigo would follow him anywhere but didn’t deserve to be uprooted. The young man was maturing and Grimmjow was going to stand his ground and fight back so that they could be safe right where they were at. Very little was thought of Ichigo’s need to fight yet.

 

            On one hand Ichigo hated what they were going through, but on the other he got to experience so much more about life than he felt anyone else might. Grimmjow had told him about the penthouse, proudly showed him around the garage and attached tool store and quaint loft that his old boss had willed to him. It was also a ‘my house is your house, come here any time you like’. Along with that first visit Ichigo discovered old, jolly photographs of Grimmjow and the former owner of the store-garage and other employees. It was the cutest thing Ichigo ever seen involving Grimmjow. A bunch of them in one picture were pretending to bench-press a car axle and in another were making stupid faces while holding a plaque of sorts. These were framed on the wall of the hardware store behind the dusty register counter. Ichigo paused and stopped to wipe the dust away from the pictures so that he could see them clearly. These were taken when Grimmjow was his age…teens-ish. Ichigo’s hazel eyes gleamed, admiring the photographs he wanted to be like that too…to learn to be so resilient that he could have a good life that he was happy in and do something that he loved so much that it would make this cool of a memory.

 

~

 

_[The end of two weeks, currently at the Kurosaki residence in the afternoon…]_

            Out on the front step of the Kurosaki house Ichigo had gone outside alone on a stormy day to read more through his mother’s book of magick. In these stressful times he’d grown quite attached to it as one of the most personal things that she’d left behind. Since his mother always made him smile it was natural that her dearest belongings would too. As he carefully turned the aged page he was reading, which was about scrying – a very specific reason for that, there was a crack of thunder overhead in the already dark sky. Ichigo turned his large hazel eyes upward with a wondering stare; ever since the snow had gone away fall was back to its usual and for the past two weeks these thunderstorms kept rolling through. They were beautiful autumn thunderstorms but it was _very_ cold rain.

 

            It hadn’t started to rain yet but it would soon…Ichigo could tell. The young man pulled up on his dark and sheer fur-lined jacket with the fuzz from the hood coming up to hug the back of his neck. It was so soft and warm, a nice stand-in for the loss of his favorite red coat. The book stayed open and on top of his bent knees, legs in light-colored jeans, his feet in black insulated boots scooted closer together so that the book wouldn’t fall. He’d been coming out here to read regularly because he figured that air outside would help him think. A small drop of cold rain fell from the sky and landed on Ichigo’s face. He blinked and immediately and rubbed it away with his sleeve and tilted his face down. Deciding that it was probably time, he quickly closed the book of magick and tucked it under the front zipper of his closed jacket to protect it from the weather.

 

            There were a few more drops of rain that came down but he didn’t want to go inside just yet; crisp fall air, as he so loved, and the breath of the outdoors was actually nice even if it was cold and stormy. A light wind moved his tangerine hair and the fur of that warm jacket. When it started to sprinkle more rain Ichigo pulled up his hood and hugging his arms around the book hidden in his jacket as he stared up at the sky from under the safety of the hood’s rim, still sitting on the small front step. Lightning crackled in the far distance over what was Florentine City. Despite all else, right now Ichigo’s mind was stuck with thoughts of his mother and he was curious about this magick stuff for what it was by nature. The tattoo-like proof of the red rune was still faintly visible on his left palm and constantly reminded him of the magick. Magick was also a great and previously unknown part of his mom’s life. He’d never known about any of that before a short time ago but now that he did, and perhaps also because he’d performed it, he felt so connected to it, grounded too. Ichigo wasn’t angry that his dad had hidden this strange secret from him, Isshin had assured that he’d done it to protect the whole family…and considering how much magick had shaken himself and Grimmjow up so recently, Ichigo really understood how much protecting could be necessary from something that powerful.

 

            Ichigo’s arms tightened around the book and his clothes made a sliding sound as the weather resistant fabric of the jacket’s sleeves moved against the chest. Magick wasn’t just something for his mom anymore, though it helped him feel close to her again, now he knew that he could perform it too. Blinking his tangerine lashes and rubbing a stray splash of rain that had met his cheek away as it was now raining harder, Ichigo softly chewed on his lower lip and continued watching the stormy, dark sky. Would she be proud of him? …for being so interested in something so dangerous?

 

            The rain started to come down harder and Ichigo’s thoughts turned to the exact subject he’d been reading about, scrying. On other days he’d been studying communing with the dead as well, two somethings that he felt he could manage and use to talk with his mom again since he regretted so much his lack of time speaking with her in the spirits’ plane. He wanted another chance, _badly_ , as any loved one might. He wanted to talk to her about fun things, sentimental things, stuff that he figured only a mother would know about life and family and herself. Isshin was a wonderful dad and a really capable parent but he was only half of what had brought Ichigo into the world and because of that the son now knew- The rain started to come down harder and Ichigo hugged his legs in close to his chest because the only thing getting soaked were his absorbent jeans and it was pretty cold. _Still_ he wasn’t ready to go inside! He’d been lucky to have recovered from the biting chill that he’d suffered two weeks back but it didn’t seem like he had a mind to keep himself from nature’s harsher weather since then.

 

            A sleek black sportscar drove up the street with water splashing around the tires as it approached the Kurosaki house and pulled over by the sidewalk and parked behind Ichigo and Isshin’s cars. That rain was coming down plentifully now; the car camouflaged well into the dark ambiance of the stormy day. Its familiar exotic driver sighed and stretched as he was gathering a few of his belongings and shoved them into a duffle bag in the backseat. Grimmjow was sore, coming here directly from teaching a dancing class in the city. Ever since the incident two weeks ago his faded scars’ aches sometimes came back on rainy days; maybe it was just his human half trying to remind him that it needed a little more time recovering. The exotic man flipped up his coat’s leather collar with the modified Lamborghini shut off and slid out of the satin covered seat after opening his door to get out and shut that door fast. He didn’t want those nice panther-patterned covers or the interior to get soaked. The plentiful rain’s effect was immediate and cold as it started to soak into his hair. The rest of Grimmjow was all covered in tight leather clothing except his black t-shirt under his coat and socks and shoes which were black and clothy and padded black tennis shoes. Believe it or not, this tight garb was comfortable and he stayed mostly dry. Clutching the collar to keep it over his neck as he locked the vehicle and hustled to the sidewalk and toward the house without taking any time to look around. He wasn’t all wet yet but if he stayed out here he definitely would get soaked.

 

            Ichigo hadn’t noticed the dark sportscar pull up as he was huddled alone on the front step protecting the book and thinking. He started to get a somber look on his face.

 

            As Grimmjow came around the short brick wall that boxed in the Kurosakis’ yard and reached to push the equally as short front gate open but he noticed that it was already open and…Ichigo was outside in the rain ahead. The way that the young man was all huddled up like that and alone made Grimmjow wonder immediately if something was wrong. Politely he closed the gate behind himself with a metallic ‘squeak’ and ‘clank’ though the sound of his footsteps coming up the front walk toward Ichigo were muffled by the pattering of constant raindrops.

 

            Hearing the sounds of the gate Ichigo’s eyes focused toward it and saw the familiar man coming up the walk toward him. This was surprising.

 

            Smiling Grimjow came straight up to Ichigo and hovered over the young man, trying to keep the rain from off of Ichigo. “Hey.” Even though Ichigo was now trying to smile Grimm still realized that there was some heavy emotion in his lover’s gaze and crouched as Ichigo turned his face down.

 

            Silently Ichigo could tell that Grimmjow had noticed his somber mood because the happy expression on the exotic man’s face had fallen a little.

 

            Without much regard anymore as to how much rain was soaking his head or dripping down his neck, Grimmjow crouched there and lifted two hands to warmly place them on the sides of his lover’s smooth face and with a compassionate expression he slowly tilted Ichigo’s head up. There was something nice about how soft and smoothly his tougher skin slid against Ichigo’s more youthful sort. Invading the space of the jacket’s pulled-up hood Grimmjow pecked Ichigo on the lips.

 

            Ichigo couldn’t help it…he cracked a smile at the warm gesture and with one hand still holding the book under his jacket he leaned and roped an arm around Grimmjow also kissing the man’s soaked neck which his face found itself by. “Hey. I’m sorry, I was just thinking about some things…” Ichigo leaned back and Grimmjow stared at him curiously with a puzzled expression through the rain.

 

            The exotic man’s blue eyes glanced down at the hand clutching something under Ichigo’s jacket and raised his brows. “Uh…well if it has anything to do with ya being pregnant I dunno how that happened.” Shrugging Grimmjow pointed a finger toward Ichigo’s hand clutching the object against his stomach.

 

            Ichigo’s eyes got wide for a second, then he realized looking down to see what Grimmjow was pointing at and back up quickly. He scoffed, amused. “If anyone was pregnant by now it’d be you…”

 

            Grimmjow snorted amusedly at that. “You’ve got weird ideas.”

 

            “It was yours to start!” Ichigo laughed.

 

            “It was a joke! C’mon let’s go inside before your funny ass catches a cold.”

 

            This was plenty convincing and Ichigo got up and turned around to open the front door with the exotic man closely following him. They stripped off jackets and coats at the door and kicked off their shoes so that there was no water being tracked.

 

            “Agh…wet and we haven’t even gotten to foreplay…” Grimmjow tried to shake some of the water out of his hair like a dog might.

 

            With a long-sleeved plain white shirt on under the removed jacket, Ichigo laughed as he turned to shield his mother’s book from some of the flying droplets, chuckling at Grimmjow’s lewd remark. Grabbing the man’s wrist next Ichigo pulled him into the house, the soft thumping of their sock-covered feet as they walked into the living room were the only sounds. “Wait here,” Ichigo mentioned, setting the book down on the arm of their couch and hurrying off to get towels from upstairs.

 

            Grimmjow watched Ichigo’s jean-covered butt and fit legs as the young man hustled up the steps, chuckling because he wondered if Ichigo realized how good-looking he was even from the back. Then Grimmjow’s eyes slid away and around the silent house and down at the magick book that Ichigo had left on the couch. This sole book was massively important but Grimmjow had only seen it for a short time before their incident. It sure looked like something fictional on the surface.

 

            There was no one else home…Ichigo had dipped out of school early when there was an assembly for half of the rest of the day on what to do in active shooter incidents and to commemorate some of the victims. This was the third time his school had called an assembly like this; he just wasn’t interested in hearing more of that. Ichigo pulled down clean towels in the bathroom and hurried right back downstairs to Grimmjow.

 

            The man hadn’t disturbed Ichigo’s book, out of politeness, and looked up at Ichigo when the young man got back. He tried to take a towel but Ichigo refused to give it to him. “Why two if you’re not gonna share?

 

            “I’ll share if you hold still. You really are wet…let me…” Ichigo tossed one of the towels over the back of the couch and used the other one to reach up and ruffle Grimmjow’s hair and pat down the rest of the man’s body. Ichigo took his time with Grimmjow’s legs in those tight leather pants.

 

            So it was just so Ichigo could cop a feel! Grimmjow wasn’t oblivious. “Hey what’s goin’ on down there?” the man asked with a playful tone as he craned his neck slightly.

 

            Ichigo shrugged as he drug the towel up the smooth leather material when he rose to standing height again. He patted Grimmjow’s handsome face dry next with another side of the towel and pushed a dripping strip of damp hair on Grimmjow’s head back. While Grimmjow had been comatose for a week his hair had grown like a weed and was long all over again; Ichigo quietly wondered if Grimm would shave half of it down like before but didn’t push the man to do. Interestingly enough Grimmjow’s nails, stubble and hair in all other sorts of places had grown just as fast and were trimmed and maintained by Isshin and Ichigo while he was out. It must have been a side effect of the regeneration and recovery which Grimmjow’s body sped through. Without warning Ichigo just slipped into a hug where he buried his face in Grimmjow’s shirt by his shoulder.

 

            Settling his arms around the young man and returning that hug very warmly Grimmjow stroked the back of Ichigo’s neck. When Ichigo didn’t answer or look up he got a little worried again. “Hey are ya ok?”

 

            Ichigo’s arms clung tightly and he swayed them gently side to side as he held on possessively and kissed up the man’s neck slowly toward Grimmjow’s ear.

 

            The cerulean haired man’s nerves prickled pleasure and he hummed a low sound. “Ya wanna go do _it_ somewhere?”

 

            Ichigo rumbled a sound that was slightly unhappy. “I wish I could say ‘yes’ to that but I skipped an assembly to come home early and my sisters won’t be long getting home.” He loved his sisters enough to not traumatize them…or embarrass himself because Karin would never let that go and she already seemed to be annoyed with Grimmjow; Ichigo especially didn’t want her snitching to their dad about what Grimm and he might get up to.

 

            Grimmjow nudged his face against Ichigo’s head. The reason was understandable but Ichigo was still clearly bothered by something. “So what’s makin’ ya anxious?”

 

            Ichigo sighed into Grimmjow’s clothes and continued to talk into the man’s neck while staring idly around the living room. “I was reading more about magick, and I could probably use it to talk to my mom again, there’s a lot I wanted to say and find out from her.”

 

            “…but?”

 

            Ichigo sighed again and closed his eyes. “But I’m worried I’ll mess it up again.”

 

            Grimmjow squeezed the young man slightly in the hug and then eased up. “You’re never going to get anywhere ya wanna go if ya worry like that. Just practice and try again.”

 

            “It’s already a really basic thing…”

 

            “Well that doesn’t mean ya don’t need practice. Ya already proved that ya can do some grand magickal shit so get better at understanding it until you’re comfortable. I know ya can.”

 

            Ichigo’s hazel eyes blinked open and he smiled, just a small smile, but it was comforting to hear sensible things.

 

            Grimmjow offered what he could manage. “I’ll help if ya need. What’d ya say?”

 

            Even though this hug was wonderful Ichigo drew back and smiled broadly at Grimmjow. “I say you just want to see me do magick.”

 

            Grimmjow rolled his eyes with a slight grin. “Well maybe that’s so…but ya still know ya can get good if ya practice.”

 

            Fully letting go of his lover Ichigo took a step back before turning to walk toward the kitchen with that positive message bouncing around among his thoughts. From a distance Ichigo heard Grimmjow move a chair at the dining table and set something down on the table’s surface. Ichigo was in the kitchen taking down a couple of mugs and warming water in them, asking loud enough to be heard what Grimmjow wanted to drink, and when ‘tea’ was the answer Ichigo told the man a few different kinds. It took about ten minutes to brew two cups of tea well but Ichigo brought them around and sat at the dining table next to the exotic man and drank his with Grimmjow. It was warm, the company and the tea, but Ichigo still seemed a little depressed.

 

            At the dining table with Ichigo, Grimmjow set his mug down between two hands. He’d been quietly watching Ichigo lean on the table and stare into the mug that he was holding without moving much; Ichigo had been like that for at least two minutes before Grimmjow said something. Draping an arm around Ichigo’s back with the chairs as close together as possible Grimmjow gently hugged the second form. “I’m serious when I ask if you’re doin’ ok. Ya don’t seem very happy.” Grimmjow’s head tilted a little as he tried to see Ichigo’s face but not invade the young man’s personal space.

 

            Ichigo sighed when he realized that he’d caused this worrying. “Have you ever just been afraid of doing something because you don’t want to do it badly?”

 

            Grimmjow’s eyes blinked open more at the very thoughtful question. “Yeah.” Not that he’d admit it was very rare for him because that would probably be discouraging but he had felt that before. “What’re ya afraid of?”

 

            “Being bad at magick…just being _bad_ at it…other than not causing harm with it I don’t want to suck either.” Ichigo sighed pretty hard. Thunder crackled and boomed over the house and both of them flinched. That was a little startling.

 

            Between having another swallow of his tea and a breath to calm down, Grimmjow’s mouth slanted into a smile and he rubbed the young man’s shoulder with the hand off his draped arm up against Ichigo. Grimm knew better than to go with something like ‘who cares’ because Ichigo clearly cared; this issue wasn’t something optimism could just brush under the rug. “Ya know, I’ve got talent but that doesn’t mean I’ve not kicked myself for falling off the pole or tightening a bolt or a screw too tight in my car once and a while.” Grimmjow nudged Ichigo’s body. “You’ve got talent. That doesn’t mean you’ll never kick yourself, but it does mean you’ll kick yourself a lot more if ya don’t use it.”

 

            Ichigo’s head slowly tilted up from staring into his mug and studied Grimmjow’s face, an honest and easy expression.

 

            Grimmjow waited patiently while Ichigo just looked at him and slowly came to terms with the advice. When the young man sank against him and pressed his cheek up against Grimm’s collarbone and stayed like that the man gave Ichigo a few minutes of peace in a secure hold. It was a sweet instance framed between two chairs as they leaned on each other right in the middle. Balanced.

 

            Ichigo started to talk quietly about part of what he’d learned. “Rainy days are a good time to scry. Outside is a great place to commune. You can use the lakes and puddles to call into the beyond,” he started saying.

 

            “That’s all? Where’d ya learn that?”

 

            “The book.”

 

            Of course, _the_ book. Grimmjow set his mug down completely and reached to pull over the book of magick which he’d brought to the table before when he’d first sat down and slid it over into Ichigo’s viewpoint. “So all we need is an umbrella.” This was gentle encouragement.

 

            Ichigo stared at the worn book’s cover, he still had his fear, but he was the first to sit up then took the book and got up from the dining table. Ichigo nodded a silent time, Grimmjow was right. He went and got an umbrella while Grimm got up and by the time Ichigo was back he’d also managed to get a weatherproof bag to carry the book in, it was draped over his arm. “Can we take your car?”

 

            Grimmjow nodded, “Of course we can.” Why would he ever say ‘no’ to this young man? He wouldn’t. Never.

 

 

_[The public park behind Karakura High School…]_

            The pair had walked from the Lamborghini, parked on the street out in front of the park, and through the recreational equipment toward a concrete sidewalk that circled a modest and scenic lake beyond as the thunder boomed in the distance. The roughest part of the storm was closer to the house they’d just left and here it was calmer. They were very lucky not to find stormy winds and just rain for the most part. Grimmjow was holding up the umbrella for them. Ichigo was holding the book in the weatherproof bag. The tangerine haired young man started looking for a puddle that he thought was suitable for scrying, the lake just seemed too ominous to look into and with all of the grasses growing at its edge it would probably be difficult to get to a properly reflective place to scry.

 

            As the search for a puddle around the lake carried on among constant falling droplets, Grimmjow was noticing how intent Ichigo was on making this succeed. “Ya know, I thought that crystal balls were a thing…”

 

            Ichigo shushed the man. “Apparently this works too.” Nature was supposed to assist focus and energy. Puddle after puddle they checked but hurried past most because they were just too small so far. They’d come to the lake because there was hardly anyone here on rainy days so no one would probably disturb them. Suddenly Ichigo grabbed Grimmjow by the sleeve of his leather coat and towed him toward the side of the walk by a tree growing beside it. There was a broad indentation in the grass by the tree’s roots which had filled up with water. The overhead branches of the tree protected the pool of runoff and gathered rainwater; this was ideal. Ichigo was getting a little more wet this way but once they stopped on the edge of the sidewalk Grimm was given a chance to catch up to hold the umbrella over the young man’s head better. “This one!” Ichigo declared, gazing around. It was close enough to the concrete to see into without having to step forward onto the muddy and sunken earth around the large puddle. The park’s lake was at their backs and the playground with equipment for children far away to their right.

 

            Curiously Grimmjow looked over Ichigo’s shoulder as the young man zipped open the weatherproof pack and took out the book of magick under the safe dryness of the umbrella plus the branches of the tree. Something unexpected happened and his blue eyes opened wider for a second with a small gasp. Grimm saw something glowing about the pages for a second.

 

            Ichigo turned his head slightly and looked at his lover, “Wh-What?”

 

            “Uh?” Grimmjow shook his head, unaware that he’d attracted attention with his small reaction.

 

            “You gasped…” Ichigo’s hazel eyes stayed fixed on the side of Grimmjow’s face.

 

            Grimmjow’s stare was focused on the book, trying to see the colored glow again. “Mmm…I thought I saw your book glowing but I think it was just me. Ya didn’t see it did ya?”

 

            “No, I didn’t but that’s not unbelievable. This whole thing is higgledy-piggledy, what’s one more weird thing?”

 

            Grimmjow’s cheeks puffed up for a second before he started chuckling. “What the hell’s that expression?”

 

            Ichigo smiled, “Disorderly. We’ll make order out of it yet.” Not that he wasn’t still nervous about messing this up or being bad at magick but Ichigo had the will to try, and Grimmjow inspired some of his confidence.

 

            The humor of the moment forced Grimmjow to relax and he continued to watch Ichigo as the young man turned through the book’s pages. There were different brief glows that flips of these pages gave off. Once Ichigo found the one he needed and seemed to reread what he needed off of it Ichigo turned to hand the book to Grimmjow who gladly picked it up and kept it dry. Almost immediately the change of hands made any faint glowing of the open book disappear and as Ichigo approached the large pooling of water by the tree Grimmjow tried turning the pages of the book for himself. Nothing. Not even a small unnatural flicker. “Hey I don’t mean to disrupt your concentration but it’s not glowin’ for me.”

 

            Removed from the umbrella Ichigo was holding out under the tree’s branches and out of the heavy rain with his jacket’s hood up to avoid the occasional droplets between leaves dampening him. “What do you mean?” Still standing the young man looked back at his lover.

 

            “I mean when ya were turning pages it was makin’ some short-lived colors but now it’s stopped completely when I’ve got a hold of it and I’m turnin’ the pages the same as ya did. Ya sure ya can’t and couldn’t see anythin’ glowin’?” Grimmjow looked really puzzled. Of either of them to have an unnatural effect on anything he expected himself to do so.

 

            Ichigo nodded his head. “I’m positive. We can talk about it later.” Trying not to miss the opportunity that they came here for Ichigo crouched down in front of the calm pooled rainwater in the soaked indent of grass and earth then stared deep into the center. Ichigo lifted his arms and spread his fingers with a calm sort of concentration on the pool; it took a lot of effort to set aside his fear of making a mistake or causing mayhem with more magick. The book had told him to make this gesture and to consider that which he sought. Fortunately for Ichigo that which he was seeking was a blood relative so her physical essence was with him and that was supposed to be enough in some cases. He would scry to find her then commune with his mother’s spirit if, and only if, he could find her.

 

            Almost literally holding his breath for hope that Ichigo would get what he came here for, Grimmjow’s blue eyes were wide again as there were intermittent colors glowing around Ichigo and the pooled water once this began. It was chaotic and come and go so the actual colors were hard to pin down but there was definitely something about this. When someone used magick or accessed it was he able to tell that it was magick? Grimmjow thought this very important but he didn’t interrupt again; it really could wait until later.

 

            As Ichigo focused calmly his body was completely still but his mind was traveling. He felt a strange rushing as in the puddle there were the images of places and were whizzing between thousands of images quickly, the amazed young man felt like he was peering directly over each one. However the rush of so many places started to get confusing until Ichigo’s head started to hurt and he fell back from the crouch onto his butt, now sitting on the edge of the wet sidewalk squeezing his eyes shut with a groan and rubbing his head.

 

            Grimmjow moved up and knelt behind Ichigo with the book carefully closed in the weatherproof bag under his arm. “Feel ok? I saw more glowin’ colors around ya and the puddle there this time. It’s faded now, when ya stopped…”

 

            “You did?” Ichigo was slowly opening his eyes as the headache faded swiftly the less he thought about searching, and he tilted his head to look at the man behind him. What if Grimmjow was seeing the aura of magick? The aura it probably gave off when used. “Grimmjow can I have that book please? In the bag is fine.” A personal item was supposed to help the process. Ichigo held back a hand and the item requested was easily given over still in the bag -a thick material that resisted rain, fire and otherwise. The umbrella was parked mostly over Ichigo, though the young man was dry everywhere else his rear was soaked from sitting down on wet concrete but he ignored it. Placing the bagged book on his lap Ichigo tried scrying again, arms up and staring into the pooled puddle of water that lapped at the edge of the grass. Places started to rush again though this time they slowed down as they changed, instead of thousands there were hundreds as the scryer had narrowed them down significantly because of the specifics of the personal item he used and then eventually…an image stilled on a white cloudy place and a light form turned around in the face of the pooling water like it was searching for a voice that had called its name. Ichigo’s breath hitched.

 

            Grimmjow was silent. He could only see the soft glow around Ichigo, which was now constant, and the extremely potent, vivid glow around the puddle – not the images that his lover was seeing.

 

            The face that looked up from the pooled water was kind and smiling with long wavy hair and the same white-pink traditional kimono and golden staff that she’d had when she’d been seen in the spirit’s plane. Masaki Kurosaki. Reciting a strange word from the book of magick that he’d memorized Ichigo touched one ear his own with his hand and tried opening the scrying up to commune as he stared at her image in the pooled water. “Mom..?” Ichigo probed, could she hear him?

 

            Masaki’s image smiled with the hand that didn’t hold her staff it gently went up to her ear. “Hello Ichigo.”

 

            The young man’s eyes started to well up with tears and he tried to fight that off but he was so glad. “Do- Do you have time to talk?”

 

            “Time is most of what I have, and I’ll always have time for you Ichigo.” She looked so happy.

 

            Hearing just a one-sided conversation by Ichigo, in a funny way Grimmjow wanted to quack over Ichigo’s shoulder that he said ‘hello’ too like one would do with a telephone but he didn’t want to break Ichigo’s focus and so Grimm quietly continued to crouch behind the young man. He was keeping Ichigo mostly dry with the umbrella, though there wasn’t much he could do from his position to dry the young man’s face as it ran with warm watery rivers but at least Ichigo seemed to have reached his mother.

 

            In the distance the thunder boomed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, I wanted to make this chapter longer but rereading it for editing convinced me that the first half was more than enough information for one.
> 
> *listened to an unholy amount of HIM to edit this*


	60. Mortal Devils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: dead things...LOTS of dead things, blood, angst, killing/murder, bad magick

**Chapter Sixty**

_“Mortal Devils”_

 

_When morals die…_

_…so too does the man._

 

_[The same rainy, gloomy afternoon…]_

            The rainy afternoon of this weekday Aizen’s dress shoes clacked down a series of hard stone steps while his hands rested in a dark and tailed overcoat in a classy manner. He was a man with a cold heart yet his demeanor was so venomously charismatic; his expressions and steps conveyed this characteristic no matter where he went. Down the dark tunnel of stairs he came into an underground room built of brick and stone where Gin was already across the well-lit stony room, here to meet him.

 

            The lean silver haired man, Gin, was just opening a long white sheet with a flick and draping it down over a pale corpse. There were two here on the floor; laid inside runes and symbols drawn upon the floor earlier by Aizen it was Gin’s job to assist him, though it was worth doubting whether Gin was actually enjoying his grim job anymore. Gin straightened up, also wearing a nice overcoat but without tails; he was just in black slacks with the classy overcoat buttoned-up, dark dress shoes and some leather gloves on. The stone room was appropriately cold, this was reason for leaving the coat on.

 

            Likely coming down with a coat on for that very same reason, Aizen stepped away from the stairs and clacked across the room to the foot of one of the covered corpses and then stopped and looked down. There were more things around the room to look at but this was the task at hand… Aizen himself was wearing very dark brown slack-like trousers, black dress shoes, his tailed overcoat was a deep brown and the black collar of his nice shirt below that was sticking up just a tad past the overcoat’s broad lapels. “Yammy was too damaged.” Aizen sighed. They could only salvage two.

 

            “He was. Absolutely torn to pieces ya know…” Gin looked up warily from across the other side of the corpses. “All due respect to ya, but I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”

 

            Aizen laughed and brought his dark eyes up to Gin with a charismatic smile and shook his head, “I have brought the dead back to life before and it will be no different this time. My formula is tuned and these runes are perfect. We cannot act alone against a force possessing Skiy without these.”

 

            Gin sighed silently and bowed his head. Once more he reflected on the old Aizen he’d known in college and admired, the Aizen that had wanted to help the helpless… This man who Aizen had grown up to be was just so skewed…so why did Gin stay? When the silver haired man focused again Aizen was watching him across the six or seven-foot distance that the sheet covered corpses on individual places separated them by. Each corpse, with their own runes for awakening and necromantic revival, was prepared and ready. Gin had taken care of it, as he did much in the way of these sorts of tasks for Aizen’s fancies. Gin’s eyes were fully open, unusual for him, and they were the color of a pale sea and large clear orbs – almost ghastly.

 

            Aizen stared back because Gin had always reminded him of a ghost, a beautiful ghost. The brunette smiled at his assistant and friend. “Shall we begin, Mister Ichimaru?”

 

            Gin nodded, an emotion of doubt hidden well in his features as he smiled. Aizen couldn’t change now, couldn’t go back to that intelligent and compassionate man he used to be. All Gin could do to hide his displeasure was smile…and so he continued to smile sadly. “Whenever ya please, sir.” All he could do now was stay with Aizen and assist. That was why he stayed.

 

            At this point Aizen turned and walked briskly toward the back of the stone room. Loud clacks followed the man as he arrived where covered masses hung with black cloth covering them. They sobbed softly… Aizen pulled down the cloths one at a time and six clothed women hung upright by chains wrapped around them. The nameless victims of kidnapping, so far just that, dangled with their eyes blindfolded and mouths gagged and joints chained and restrained. When the covering cloths came off they started to sob louder; it didn’t turn Aizen’s heart to hear or see the nameless suffering. Aizen retrieved an ornate spear from the wall beside them.

 

            Meanwhile Gin joined the other man on the same side of the room with the women and pulled down on a chain dragging the line of women along a track and leaving them dangling above the corpses on the floor…their dirty, bare feet with ankles chained and dresses or lose clothing swayed. Some of them struggled more than others. Gin simply checked the positioning and then walked to the side of the room. He did not help them. He felt he could not. So the rest of the sacrificial ritual was now Aizen’s role to complete.

 

            The brunette checked the ornate spear’s blade particularly, dragging it through an herbal paste before he walked back to the foot of the corpses on the floor. Aizen took a refreshing breath and looked up at his chained sacrifices. They shouldn’t cry, they were part of something better...powerful… “Observe, Gin…” Aizen started to speak strange words in tongues and the stony underground room darkened, getting colder and thick with an unnerving aura.

 

            Gin observed with fully open eyes.

 

            Aizen continued speaking these words in tongues while he started on one side and cut one throat…then the next…then the next… All six across and the women’s blood drained from the arteries in their necks as soft sounds like choking or drowning garbled their sobs…and they died quickly…horribly. The blood dotted down the bodies to the white sheets over the corpses. The dead masses there under twitched and shifted. Aizen was chanting other words and holding his arms out, one hand spread open and the other gripping the ornate spear’s hilt as he closed his eyes. From this a disconcerting and deep fog-like blackness came up from the floor, lapping at him and then rushing under the sheets wildly. In a moment the wildness stilled to just limbs and bodies shifting.

 

            Gin started to move one of his arms slowly.

 

            The first corpse sat up and exhaled as the sheet slid down to its lap and legs. No longer a corpse…Ulquiorra’s neck was a nasty example of poor healing and where else there were slight scars on his pale body they had been repaired coarsely - grisly markings. His nails were long and black, his once shiny hair was wild and untamed at the same length…his large green eyes were even larger and glowing with color. He took a first shaky breath of air with his mouth awkwardly open. Then the second corpse sat up as Ulquiorra’s hands were touching himself to feel his own cold skin in exploration…

 

            With mangled dreadlocks that severely needed tending and crusted with blood, Tosen was blinded, bearing a lot more scars where his limbs and body had to be fused back together with the necromantic magicks. Having been attacked by one of the teenagers who sought to protect the other had cost him his sight, now he would have real reason to always wear sunglasses at inappropriate times as he generally had… Black tar poured from the pits of his eyes, which were removed already, and dripped down his cold body, shaking and opening his mouth oddly to keep breathing it seemed.

 

            As Ulquiorra looked up with a hollow bewilderment his eyes too began to drip but with rivers of deep green straight down his face. He was searching for the one…the one whom he was to follow for bringing him back to life.

 

            The chained, bleeding bodies of the six sacrifices, victims, dangled behind the newly risen men. Small sounds from the chains as they swayed gently…all dead.

 

            Aizen had lowered his arms as the necromantic magicks faded, the reanimation and soul binding was complete, and thus he became interested in his newly revived associates. “Now you two will _completely_ obey me…even better than before. I will give you more power…and you will follow me, we will find that which I-”

 

            Gin found this time good, while Aizen was fully distracted. Gunfire sounded in the underground room and Aizen stumbled and the spear he’d been holding clattered onto the ground. With wide open eyes Gin looked surprised as Ulquiorra, nude and hauntingly staring at him with bared and green-stained fangs for teeth, had sprung up when he’d seen the gun that Gin had aimed at Aizen. Intent to kill and no less. That meant Gin’s aim was forcibly thrown off and the bullet he’d fired had only grazed the back of Aizen’s overcoat. The silver haired man struck with the butt-end of the pistol and shoved a stunned Ulquiorra away with a grunt but it was almost too easy to push the weak undead off of him, then Gin tried to take aim again.

 

            Ulquiorra collapsed on the cold floor with a fleshy smack and scratched at the floor in a fit.

 

            In a blink Gin hacked a pained sound as the end of the spear which Aizen had used to slit throats was now stuck through his belly and tapped the wall behind Gin. Straight through. Ghastly clear eyes still wide, Gin felt his body shaking…shivering. The gun fired oddly off into one of the corpses dangling in chains before the silver haired man dropped the weapon. It wouldn’t matter now and his grip was so weakened.

 

            Breathing erratically Aizen held the shaft of the spear he’d picked up and used to stab whom he _thought_ until now was his loyal friend and associate. Aizen looked a mixture of furious and confused for the time being, eyes so wide as his friend’s were closing.

 

            Gin hacked again and found it difficult to speak so he raised his arms shakily with a beckoning gesture as his half-open eyes stared ahead.

 

            Aizen’s rage mellowed out as the shock fell a bit. “Mister Ichimaru- _Gin_ , why?!”

 

            Gin’s mouth trembled as he spoke the words with his arms still up and beckoning, “Because it was never me…”

 

            Back stinging with the cut that a hot bullet had left through his tailed overcoat’s back, Aizen dropped the end of the spear which clacked hard on the ground. He started to recover his senses.

 

            A disoriented Ulquiorra was laying on the floor staring up at the dangling corpses unintelligently.

 

            Tosen was trying to find his eyes…

 

            The spear was still stuck in Gin as he let go of a last breath and slid down the slightly blood-stained wall. His arms fell to either side with hands open limply and palms up…slack-covered legs almost straight out and his neck bowed. It was never him. Aizen was dogging after lots of other people…had lost his mind to it and the magick… Gin couldn’t stand it anymore. He just couldn’t stand it. The last thing he could do, either set Aizen or himself free…perhaps both. There were two bullets in that gun. Just two. His plan hadn’t gone exactly that well though.

 

           Crouching with a somber but sobered attitude Aizen found a small paper folded into the silver haired man’s hand. It read: ‘If things don’t work out don’t reanimate me. – Love, Gin’. Aizen kissed the cooling cheek of his dear former friend and bowed his head of wavy brown locks while crumpling the paper with Gin’s last request written upon it in his fist as he came to terms with losing another person whom he associated closely with. Gin was always so loyal to him but this time… It was Grimmjow Aizen blamed; Grimmjow was the beautiful cause of this grief. Not the foul necromantic magicks that corrupted himself, nor the madness in his own mind nor the corruption spread to his friends…no more than minions now. Aizen would tear the essence of Grimmjow out and Skiy would be the vessel of the omniscient. That was the way it should be. Aizen would finish his task, bearing his grief as additional fuel for the wild madness he was to endure. The man rose from floor with his fists clenched tight and let out a loud echoing scream.

 

 

_Victims of beliefs we desire._

_The jealous man closes his eyes,_

_dies…_

_…because the truth he’s seen._


	61. Commune Unto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: sentiments and sexy/cheesy humor

**Chapter Sixty-One**

_“Commune Unto”_

 

It was true that scrying had found Masaki’s spirit but would communing with it be dangerous?

 

            Even as he crouched here trying not to be emotional because he just felt like it would muddle things Ichigo sniffed and wiped at his face with his sleeves. The warm rivers down his cheeks ebbed. “I miss you mom, I really miss you a lot…”

 

            The image of Masaki shown in the large tree-sheltered puddle smiled and it was a sympathetic and comforting expression. “I know you do, my _sweet_ boy. I miss you and your father and sisters too, but don’t forget I’ll always be here for you to speak with.”

 

            Realizing suddenly that this might be important family time, he had very little sense for such things out of lack of experience, Grimmjow put his hand on Ichigo’s shoulder and leaned forward. “Give ya a minute?” He could really only hear Ichigo speaking but he figured this was emotional enough without an observer.

 

            Afraid to take his eyes off of the water, because he wasn’t sure if that would break the magick, Ichigo agreed. “Yes. Thanks, Grimm.”

 

            Grimmjow patted Ichigo reassuringly, leaving the umbrella with the young man whether Ichigo wanted it or not; it was a caring and selfless gesture. The mostly leather clad man then stood up and pulled up his coat’s collar so that rainwater wouldn’t run down the back of his neck at the very least; he knew the rest of him was going to get drenched but when he thought about Ichigo staying dry and warm it made that easy to overlook. Grimm was already getting soaked once he stood up and before Ichigo could protest the umbrella being handed over Grimmjow had already backed out from under the tree’s branches and into the heaviest of the pouring rain. The exotic man didn’t waste time jogging out toward the park’s playground to hide under one of the fixtures; it wasn’t that far and thankfully his leather clothes repelled the rain pretty well.

 

            Hearing Grimmjow’s steps distance themselves Ichigo relaxed and held onto the slim and delicate metal stem of the plain umbrella securely with a sentimental smile. He was grateful that his partner, and love, was so thoughtful of him. What a man should be. Ichigo wanted to be just like that. The tangerine haired young man had completely stopped tearing up for now, sniffing all the rest away.

 

            Having waited patiently, as it seemed like her son was speaking with someone else, Masaki smiled like she was proud of something. “You have a fine friend.”

 

            “Well he’s more to me than a friend to me, mom.”

 

            “Oh? A best friend then. Would he be the blue haired young man who was with you when you dropped into our spiritual plane?”

 

            “Actually I love him, but yes that was him.”

 

            “Oooh! Your first love?” Masaki looked absolutely delighted.

 

            “Mmm…yeah, but please don’t tell Renji I said that.”

 

            Masaki’s delighted laughter filled out what would have been silence with joy and it helped to lighten the mood of conversation much more. Her appearance rippled faintly as just a little droplet of water fell into the reflective puddle from the tree branches above. “He loves you too I can imagine, you sound very happy. I won’t be telling Renji anything about what we speak of unless you ask me to talk to him, but I’m so happy for you Ichigo! Does your father know? Remind me of his name?”

 

            “His name is ‘Grimmjow’.” Strangely, perhaps also unexpectedly, this was almost like having a regular face-to-face conversation with his mom; Ichigo liked that and he wore a goofy wide smile. Their words were so friendly. The conversation was so easy. It made Ichigo so happy. “Dad knows, he was really mad at first because he thought that Grimm was a problem because he’d… Actually that’s a really long story but it’s getting sorted out now. Grimmjow’s just got _something_ going on and I’m going to help him get through it, but for now…” Ichigo almost felt guilty for saying, “…it’s kind of hard to handle.”

 

            As her wavy hair moved on a slight breeze with grace wherever she was in that spiritual plane, Masaki’s fair and light expression stayed as her son talked about his life. She wasn’t worried about Ichigo’s ability to handle a difficult situation because she knew that he had a strong will. “This is so mature of you Ichigo. I’m proud! This _something_ has to do partly with the reason you two were in our spirit realm I would imagine, and all of those questions to find out more about Grimmjow, yes?” She heard her son make a simple sound of agreement. “Your father will understand. A hard-won struggle is worth a lot and those willing to go through a struggle have good merit in their hearts.”

 

            Unable to help himself, Ichigo’s face cracked into a wider smile. It was bittersweet but he wished that he could hug her right then. All of the sudden he had a thought, “Hey mom…do you have any questions for me, about anything?”

 

            Masaki laughed again and the rings on her staff jangled as she nodded with a slight shift. “Of course I do, but letting you talk first is important!”

 

            “Well I want to answer yours too, as part of talking.”

 

            “Should I ask now?”

 

            It felt silly to give his parent permission to ask questions but Ichigo knew that at the core of this his mother was just trying to be thoughtful so he gave a clever answer to solve this. “It’ll help me with my questions.” The rain continued to pour and pour from the dark, cloudy and ominous sky but the tree above, the umbrella and Ichigo’s sheer jacket’s hood were keeping the magickal book and himself dry among it all…well… _most_ of him. Ichigo was sitting on the concrete sidewalk by now and his jean-covered rear was soaked from that and pretty cold straight through his undergarments yet he was not really paying any attention to it; he was too glad to talk to his mom again.

 

            “Well how are your father and sisters doing?” The timely and quick question surely proved that she did have questions already. Masaki swept a piece of her long wavy hair behind an ear and held onto her staff with both hands firmly – as her reflection in the large puddle showed.

 

            “They’re doing well, I think. Karin, Yuzu and dad are all really happy and watch TV together all of the time.”

 

            “What about you?”

 

            “Well…I’m a little more independent. Until some months ago I was watching TV and spending time cooking with them.” Ichigo felt a little bad admitting that when he figured that his mother would want to hear how close-knit they all were.

 

            “Independence is good! Are you happy in school? Are you driving now?”

 

            Perking up a little as it seemed like what he’d been up to was fine with his mom, Ichigo chuckled; now he was a little proud of the answers he had to give. “I’m keeping up with school pretty well, I’m not sure about college afterward but I’ll figure it out. I’ve only got a few more months until I graduate! I do drive, dad bought me a nice car a while ago. Sometimes Grimmjow lets me drive _his_ car and that’s exciting, he also helps out when our cars break. I think he’ll teach me how to maintain them sometime. At home I kind of do my own thing and I’m doing pretty well considering, but I eat meals with everyone almost every day.”

 

            “Oh, good job!” Masaki looked just as excited to hear these things as Ichigo was to tell them. “Are you helping keep the house tidy?”

 

            Suddenly Ichigo was a little sheepish. “Well…I could probably be helping more with the house but it’s usually very clean thanks to Yuzu…” A droplet of rainwater fell from the edge of a leaf up high and pattered against the top of the umbrella, though it was barely heard among the many falling around them outside of the shelter of the tree.

 

            Masaki beamed. “She certainly sounds like she’s inherited all of my domestic skills. Make sure that everyone helps her fairly from now on ok?” Masaki paused, “At least until you live with someone else.”

 

            Just a little flustered, Ichigo fidgeted because he knew what was implied by ‘live with someone else’ and it was a little unexpected to hear that. “I-I don’t know if I’ll actually get to live with Grimmjow for a while.”

 

            Suddenly Masaki’s expression seemed concerned, a motherly look toward a person in peril perhaps. “Oh no, don’t tell me that he’s homeless…”

 

            Grimmjow… _homeless?_ Not likely with that man’s resourcefulness…though that farmhouse of his family’s had just blown up…but it wasn’t like the exotic man was living there. The apparent animosity between Grimmjow and his parents suggested that Grimm wasn’t likely to have ever wanted to live on that property. Considering this it made Ichigo grateful that his own parents were leagues better. Being polite instead of just chuckling his mom’s worry off Ichigo shook his head avidly. “Not at all. Grimmjow’s independent too. He has a really cool place to live, he’s just moved back into it and it’s kind of small so I don’t want to impose but I do visit him. That’s all though.” Ichigo was of course talking about the loft in the garage behind the out-of-business tool store in the older districts of Florentine City.

 

            Sighing with relief for that Masaki continued, “What a relief. I hardly know this young man you’re with but I do wish him well and if he’s ever in need make sure to help, ok sweetheart?”

 

            “Of course I’ll help him!” ‘Young’…also not a word to describe Grimmjow. “But uh, well mom…he’s a _little_ older than me actually.”

 

            “That’s ok. Oh dear…I’m sorry to ask, I feel irresponsible and a little silly but…how old are you now Ichigo? I don’t have a very good concept of mortal time here and no way to keep track of the years.”

 

            Ichigo blinked. That was unexpected but he didn’t mind. “I’m nineteen.”

 

            “Ooooh, you’re almost an adult,” Masaki chirped with a proud expression on her face. “If I remember right from the seeing you in the spirit world you still look young and handsome, that’ll be something to celebrate as you get older. Youth is a gift. You’re about to graduate school you said before, right? Why you’ll be out on your own with a job and everything as a responsible young man!” It clearly made her so happy to think about her young boy having a future. “Make sure to visit your sisters and father sometimes.”

 

            So she couldn’t see him right now? That was a little sad but it was ok, getting to talk to her was the best part. “Mom! You’re getting ahead of yourself I’m still at home for now. I’ll be sure to do that when I’m out on my own but it’ll take a while.” Ichigo made sure to talk even more clearly so that she would hear everything that he said perfectly. “Hey, Dad, Karin, Yuzu and I all went to your grave after I got back from the spirit plane and we spent some time there about two weeks ago. It was really nice and we had food and incense but I wish that you were able to meet us there. Could you ever do that?”

 

            Masaki smiled with a maternal warmth. “Thank you for going to visit me. I’ll always be in your heart and even as a spirit, my sweet boy. Perhaps one time I will be able to be there when everyone visits. Tell me, how is the clinic? Does your father still work in it?”

 

            “Sometimes, but he’s actually working in big hospitals now since you left us. He never said why but I think it’s because we really needed the money. He’s trying to go and work at Ryuken’s hospital in Karakura now he’s told me. He thinks he’ll get along better there.” That was the very short and vague reasoning of it but accurate. “Sometimes dad gets ridiculous about taking care of things though…”

 

            Knowingly Masaki nodded her head here. “Your father will always work hard to provide for his family no matter what, it’s one of the reasons that he’s such a good man and that I married him, even if he is a little ridiculous. He’s very silly by nature but he’ll turn serious when he needs to be. I’m sure you’ve noticed. Like you mentioned, he was critical of Grimmjow.”

 

            “Yeah.”

 

            “Your father is trying to make sure that you have a good life. Actually I had him promise to care for you and your sisters very well so that you all could have full and safe lives. This promise was a long time ago but it’ll always mean a lot between us, however now that you’re older don’t be afraid to tell him that you’re taking responsibility for your own decisions. He’ll understand when to be less skeptical and critical.”

 

            “Could you talk to him if I needed you to?”

 

            “Oh, well that might be complicated but if you really need me to we can try to figure out a way. Your father doesn’t have the gift for magick like you and I do, so it’ll be tricky. So you’re having fun in school too?” Masaki’s staff slanted a little to one side and as the rings on it traveled they jangled again.

 

            About school again…a little harder to answer a second time; Ichigo shrugged forcibly casually. “It’s hard with Renji gone now. We have morbid assemblies about active shooter threats and people bother me about what happened because they know I was friends with Renji but…it only got that way recently. It was ok before. I think it’ll go back to normal soon… My grades are still pretty good though, I promise I’m trying to keep them up.”

 

            “Good job Ichigo! Are your other friends doing well?”

 

            “They’re all healthy at least. All of us miss Renji and they’re sad for now but when we get together just to have fun they’re really good to hang out with and we have a good time. That is…when I do have time. I spend a lot more with Grimmjow now. It’s kind of hard to do both.” Ichigo paused, watching the rain run down off of the rim of the umbrella. “I don’t mind, it’s just different, but they’ve got each other and I really like spending time with Grimmjow. He’s an interesting person and I think I can learn from him. Um hey mom, can you tell Renji that we all say ‘hello’ to him? I don’t want him to think that we’ll ever forget him…I won’t especially, he helped save my life.”

 

            That kind gesture warmed Masaki’s heart straight to her spiritual core. “Of course sweetheart, I’ll tell him as soon as he gets back. He’s out fighting some _demons_ right now.” She was nodding with great resolve, like fighting demons was something dutiful and important…well maybe for them it was!

 

            Ichigo smiled, he’d seen Renji in action and trusted that his friend would do just fine in a fight. “He’s so tough, that’s perfect for him.” Funny how supernatural elements had blended into his world so much now that he was used to them and not horrified or alarmed much anymore. “Hey…this is really hard to ask but um…could you tell me what happened when you… _died_..? It’s never been clear…I’m sorry to ask but I want to know.” It seemed like the conversation had transitioned into Ichigo asking questions now, and all of the sudden it got very sad and serious. Ichigo’s face was very sincere even though he was assuming that his mom couldn’t see him – only hear him.

 

            Masaki grew quiet with a slightly less elated look on her face, though she tried her best not to look sad outright; she probably felt sad though, for her son to wonder about such things and the memory of being stripped of life. It was quite sad.

 

            Even though it was hard to ask and probably hard to say this young man still wanted to know. Isshin had always said that it was an accident but Ichigo wanted to know firsthand what his mother had to say.

 

            “I’m not sure if that you’re ready to hear this, Ichigo. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

 

            It was no exaggeration to say that he looked dejected. “But I’m old enough! I want to know…” Ichigo was fighting that judgement.

 

            It was hard not to tell Ichigo right away but she had a good reason; Masaki sighed softly. “I don’t feel that your age is what depends on that, my sweet boy. I love you so much, and you’re going to go through a lot right now with that other young man you’re with and this could just be too much too soon. What you’ll be going through with Grimmjow being half of two types of beings with his _somethings_ already stirring your lives up is going to be more than enough for you to think about right now since you want to help him. My story can wait, and it will _always_ be here to tell, and I will _always_ be here to tell you once you have less to sort out. I don’t want to overwhelm you, alright sweetheart?”

 

            “You have to promise to tell me later then…and Grimm’s not really young though…” Ichigo was giving up on his previous question…but only if she agreed to this condition.

 

            “I promise. Cross my heart.” Then Masaki looked particularly curious, “Oh? How old is he?” Now that Ichigo had reinforced Grimmjow’s age once _again_ she was very curious why her son would remind her once more.

 

            Ichigo looked sheepish and puffed his cheeks up. “Well…he’s…twenty-seven.”

 

            Masaki blinked her eyes open wider. “Goodness me! A man! No wonder he’s so interesting to you then.” Masaki chuckled but she didn’t seem to be troubled by Grimmjow’s age.

 

            “You know…I’m still afraid of becoming obsessed with him and going crazy, like his mother who went to an asylum because of Grimmjow’s father. At least that’s what he told me happened to her.” Ichigo bit his lip and started blurting things out worriedly. “I did a lot things I wouldn’t normally do to stay with him and to meet him and to-”

 

            Masaki stopped her son’s frantic explanation with a hand and words. “Truly a sad fate and most likely the truth, but Ichigo, Grimmjow’s father was a _complete_ lorn angel and your love is not that way. He’s only half and that means his influence isn’t as strong. You’re _not_ heavily under his supernatural influences, this is just what it can be like to be in love in a good relationship. Sometimes we do some crazy things for love. The unnatural influence that he has isn’t strong enough to break down the will in your heart. Be strong, you _can_ handle this.”

 

            Taking a calming breath and listening to his mom Ichigo felt a little better. “What specifically can I do to keep a ’good relationship’? I…I was actually in one with Renji, but it didn’t work out so well. I don’t want that to happen again…” This was one of the things a mother would certainly know.

 

            Masaki certainly did know and it brought a warm smile to her face as her staff jangled again with a slight shift in her posture. The puddle baring her appearance rippled lightly. “You have to let the other person care about you as much as you care about them. You have to do things _together_. You should be forgiving, thoughtful and anything else reasonable that your partner seems to need, but never forget your own needs too. Your relationship will be more complicated than normal I think with your age gap and Grimmjow’s inhuman half, but if you have a hard time or a fight always try to figure things out with your partner. Men can be stubborn! That includes the both of you, and sometimes that can make problems worse but you just have to counter it with good common sense. If you’re truly stuck just seek your father or me out. We can try to help if you really need more guidance.”

 

            “I don’t think me and Grimmjow have ever seriously fought before…” The thought of that was so sudden and alien. Would they ever have an actual fight? Over something serious? Over something stupid? Now Ichigo was wondering because so far they’d only ever disagreed and that was over with very quickly.

 

            “It’s part of life, fighting, you’ll find that out at some point. Try not to say anything you don’t mean and work things out when you can, that’s the best way to recover.”

 

            “Ok… Uh…unrelated, but how did you know that you wanted to be a nurse? Did grandma and grandpa expect it?” Ichigo had suddenly thought of this question as the idea of growing up still lingered. He’d been so young when she died…he’d only heard things from other people.

 

            “Oh that’s quite easy to answer! I didn’t decide until I had you three, my parents didn’t pressure me, but I wanted to help others _and_ your father – to be right by his side when he needed me as he was practicing medicine and being a huge help himself. I guess I kind of admired your father’s work!”

 

            “What about before? Like before you had us what did you want to be and how was it?” While learning more about his mom Ichigo was also trying to get a little guidance for the pacing of jobs in life; he figured he could ask his dad too but Isshin had pretty much only ever been a doctor and his mom he thought had had a few different jobs.

 

            “Before that? Hmmm…I thought I would work in a firm and make lots and lots of money to live in a huge high-rise apartment with lots of fancy furnishings. I guess I wanted to be a fancy and well-off person at first but having children and the opportunity to help others was more worthwhile. I had to discover that. It was _especially_ clear that this was more worthwhile once I met your father because he’s such a wonderful man and that helped me to see it. I did try to be very diligent at both types of jobs because I liked them but I think if I had known more about nursing to start, because I liked that more, I would have preferred to spend every year of my life doing that.”

 

            Warmly Ichigo smiled as he was listening. That was just like his mom alright. Beautiful and strong-willed, she was also so kind and helpful, just the way he felt about her when he was a child; that was why she always made him smile. “Right now _I_ want to grow up and have a lot of fun and like whatever I do too.” He paused for a second and seemed like he had something else to say. In another moment he had the words for it, “I want to like what I do as much as Grimmjow likes what _he_ does, and as much as you liked your jobs, but I don’t have any great talents that I’ve discovered about myself yet.” It seemed like they all, his mom, dad and Grimmjow, were really talented at their jobs.

 

            “You’re smart though! Once you find some inspiration you’ll know more. What does Grimmjow do for a living with his talents, hmm?” It couldn’t hurt to hear more about this man whom her son loved so much, could it?

 

            Oh no. _This_ question. Suppose he’d walked himself _right_ into that one with all his chatter; Ichigo was immediately nervous to answer. “Um…he… _dances_. Dances without his clothes on… _sometimes_. He’s trying to do it more professionally like normal pole dancing in studios and teaching classes in the city now though. He didn’t like where he was working.” Ichigo wanted to make sure that she knew that Grimmjow was a responsible guy – not a flake. “He also fixes and rebuilds cars really well! Really, really well…” Ichigo was reflecting on the car that Grimmjow drove. That damn modified Lamborghini was an impressive piece of machinery and ingenuity.

 

            Masaki’s eyes got wide. Her son was in a relationship with a _stripper?_ Or former stripper. That’s sure what it sounded like, and also a mechanic? What a curious combination. “Well that’s certainly _exciting_. I’m glad that you’re willing to tell me that, I can hear you’re nervous. I promise not to judge your love for what he does for work, stripper or otherwise, so that you don’t have to worry, ok?”

 

            That was a concise statement but extremely relieving. “Thanks mom.” Isshin had been much stricter with this because Masaki had wanted Ichigo to be safe, however his mom was more understanding now. It was all part of letting Ichigo grow up. “Hey um, have you ever tried to come back to us?”

 

            “Once or twice. There’s no way that I could stay permanently but I might be able to visit when you come by my grave. Your father would certainly be overjoyed and Karin and Yuzu. I believe there is a passage in the book you have about summoning a spirit to their grave if you read through it thoroughly.”

 

            Ichigo beamed. “I’ve actually been reading your book already, it’s really enjoyable to learn the same things you knew. Are there more books?” Ichigo patted the one in the bag on his lap. “Like yours. I want to practice magick.”

 

            “It’s your book now, my son, and there are. I have a lot of magickal texts and possessions. Your father should have stored them. I kept them in our house in our bedroom closet while I was with the living but he’s probably had them moved by now. You should ask him. Also…I’m very glad for you Ichigo but you’ve got to be careful with magick. Using it will take tolls and create situations that you’ll have to be able to handle or it can hurt you and those around you. Remember the rune on your left palm… Do not under _any_ circumstances use anything necromantic or black magick, do you understand me?” In this rare moment Masaki was very stern with her son. It was extremely important that he knew this. “I love you too much to let use of those foul magicks taint your young life. They have such nasty consequences.”

 

            “I won’t. I promise, mom. What magicks _should_ I use though? Like which ones are safest to practice?”

 

            “ _Anything but those._ Blood magick like the rune on your palm is questionable but not innately evil. Not all black magick and necromantic magick is actually evil but they are very, very dangerous almost all of the time and you will surely pay a steep cost for them. Elemental and arcane magicks are probably where you should start.”

 

            Now this brought up a curious thought to Ichigo’s mind, “What kind of magick is Grimmjow made out of?”

 

            Masaki offered up a chuckle. “He isn’t _made_ of magic, but it’s a part of him. That is black magic, from hell. It’s what saturates the angels that are kicked out of the domain of heaven so that they can _never_ go back. They also lose their will to return. Most other angels are troublesome though Ichigo, stay away from them.”

 

            “What magick do heavenly angels use?”

 

            “The opposite of black, white magic.”

 

            “And that was the sort of angel you banished when we were in the spiritual plane right?”

 

            “Yes, exactly! You’re very sharp! Heavenly angels and forlorn angels will try to hunt in our plane, though it isn’t theirs to take care of, if they find each other here things can get pretty hectic in a hurry. They loathe their opposites. They will _always_ fight.”

 

            Oh…so if they ever saw a heavenly angel again it could be exceptionally bad for Grimmjow… “What about other people who can do magick? Should I keep this a secret?”

 

            “You’ll have to be the judge of that on your own. I would probably only share this with your father and sisters for now. Otherwise the people you tell should only be close friends and don’t speak of it terribly casually to anyone. The nature of other people who can use magick, and there will be some that you meet, depends entirely on their intent. Good people can be using bad magicks, just do not collaborate with anyone who takes risks that you yourself wouldn’t take. Ok, sweetheart? I think it’s _wonderful_ that you have this in your life now but it’ll take a lot of responsibility to be safe. It could be a talent of yours!”

 

            Ichigo smiled a little, it really could be a talent for him! “How can I tell who uses magick?”

 

            With a knowing smile that was almost mischievous, a super rare thing for her, Masaki chuckled. “They will be _odd_. Trust me, you will _sense_ it or _see_ it. Once a person has used magick at least once they are attuned and that stays with them forever. They  can tell where magick is and others can tell when they use magick.”

 

 _‘See it?’_ Ichigo wondered if that had something to do with Grimmjow mentioning a glow… “Hey mom, I’m _human_ , _right?_ ”

 

            Masaki chuckled a little. “Of course, just like your father and me.”

 

            “Was one of your parents able to use magick?”

 

            “Yes, your grandpa and grandma on my side were both very good at it. Some of my magickal belongings were once theirs, and the generation before that and so on – as family heirlooms, if you like. Their talents were also something passed down.”

 

            So the talent of magick had always been in the family. What a grand and grounding feeling…to have an ability that had been passed through _generations_. This was all a lot for Ichigo to think about but he was getting to ask some questions that he really needed answers to and it made him feel incredibly confident _and_ grounded. “Is there an easier way to umm…commune with you?”

 

            “Hmm… If you can find something which belonged to me and pour clean water into it you should be able to scry and speak to me anywhere the item goes. Use the same technique that you did this time.”

 

            Ichigo face lit up. That was great! It would be as easy as calling someone on the phone then… _maybe!_

 

            “Now Ichigo…”

 

            …that tone sounded like another impending warning. Uh oh.

 

            “…you need to be _careful_ where you use magick, not just anywhere is wise. Others can listen in when you do this and I hate to admit it but there are malicious magick users who will prey on young and learning ones like yourself for their own gain. My sweet boy…just make sure to only use magick in places that don’t give you a bad or a strange feeling. If something happens you need to _defend_ yourself. Ok? It’s alright to do that. Don’t even question it, just defend yourself. The red rune on your left palm will help. Remember it’s modified to reflect some of the harm intended for you back at your attacker but it will cost you little pieces of your life at a time.”

 

            “I’ll be very careful. I’ll learn less costly defensive and offensive magicks- GAH!” Ichigo jumped when thunder boomed. It was getting unfortunately close.

 

            “Ichigo?!”

 

            “Thunder and lightning mom…sorry. That scared the heck out of me.”

 

            “Is the weather _that_ bad?”

 

            “It’s rough, but I’m warm though. Grimmjow gave me an umbrella.” Kind of a lie, his butt and legs were really cold by now and talking about it reminded him but Ichigo knew he could warm up afterward so he was patient.

 

            “Oh, that storm might be those demons.”

 

            “Huh?” Ichigo’s face scrunched. “Do all the events there in your plane cause severe weather here?”

 

            “Any interference in the spirit’s plane by intruders will yes.”

 

            That was going to make Ichigo wonder if every storm was because of something. “Is all crazy weather caused by that?”

 

            “No, no. That’s sometimes just nature. You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference unless it was unusual weather for the season like the snow you experienced.”

 

            “Um…I have one more thing to ask and if you have a question too that’s ok but Grimmjow doesn’t have an umbrella and I’m worried that he’ll get soaked and cold if I don’t get back to him soon.” Of course Ichigo hadn’t realized that Grimmjow was under shelter not far away; Ichigo hadn’t once looked away from the reflective puddle.

 

            Masaki was proud that her son would think of others like this, he was really growing up! “Any questions I have can wait until we speak again. What is yours?”

 

            Ichigo nodded. “Grimmjow isn’t in control of the black thing that he turns into when stuff get… _weird_ … He’s only ever turned into it to come after me and he didn’t force it then. He said he’d passed out even.”

 

            “To come after _you_ , you said? Are you certain that’s why?”

 

            “Uh huh. To save me from trouble. It hasn’t happened all the time when I’m in trouble though, just when things were really bad.”

 

            “Well it’s common that halved beings don’t have good control over their less dominate side. It sounds like his lorn half has an instinct for when your spirit is in true peril. It probably pushes him into that state to protect you because he holds you in his heart. You two are probably spiritually bonded by now.” If this didn’t make Masaki like Grimmjow even more nothing would; he was protecting her son and it was proof of a sincere relationship.

 

            “‘True peril’?”

 

            Masaki squinted a little, “As in a situation you were in would have _ended_ your life. That’s what ‘true peril’ means in this case.”

 

            Ichigo looked surprised, “Every time he does that I should be dead?!”

 

            “Unfortunately. You will find that an existence with magick brings death closer more often than a mortal life without. That’s unavoidable, but it doesn’t have to be frequent if that makes sense.”

 

            “Kind of…” Suddenly Ichigo was glad that Grimmjow had only showed him the lorn side of himself twice. Whirling into a thought of actually imagining what all of this meant Ichigo swallowed heavily, the fragility of mortality was a hard thing to acknowledge. “But I saw him like that when he was asleep…”

 

            “In slumber he might dream or have nightmares that bring it about. If he wants to control it fully I’m not sure how but there’s probably a way. I would caution you again, because it’s black magick, to not be around him for a long time when he has fully changed over nor…and I’m sorry if this is a little insensitive but…” …how to be delicate with this… “…you should avoid umm… _intimacy_ when he’s even a little bit changed. No kissing, hugging, you know, affections. His magick could diffuse into you with too much close exposure.”

 

            The tangerine haired young man crouched here fought off an expression of amusement whether he could have been seen making it or not. So no kinky other-worldly sex! Ichigo was almost disappointed except he hadn’t even considered it until he was told that he shouldn’t be doing it, typical human. “If I ever mess up..?”

 

            “A small amount of his black magic you might be able to remove but otherwise it will spread and it could also end your life since you’re purely human. Ordinarily it would kill an infested human very quickly but because of your red rune you would probably suffer for a long time… You should explain _all of this_ to Grimmjow, he needs to know how serious this is if he’s going to be your partner. OH! And of course…keep white magick away from him… It could really hurt someone like him!”

 

            “Definitely going to remember that. Would it hurt him the same way as black magic would hurt me?”

 

            “He’s less fragile than a normal human being so white magick shouldn’t diffuse into him, but it would hurt quite a bit. He still has a human half though…I’m not completely familiar with the vulnerabilities of someone like him. Human weakness, it’s a charming quality, as you’ll come to understand.”

 

            What a confusing thing to say but Ichigo nodded and kept it in mind anyway. “I should go before he gets too cold. Thanks mom…”

 

            “Be safe and help take care of everyone in my stead. I love you, Ichigo.”

 

            “I’ll protect them, and I love you too.” Ichigo smiled and as he did he suspected that she let their connection go because he’d hesitated but the puddle rippled out from the center as her image dispersed from view. Slowly Ichigo stood up with a sigh and clutching the umbrella and the bag with what was now his book of magick inside of it he would slowly look up from the pooled rainwater at the tree across from it. His mind was suddenly back to reality and he felt cold again…standing there in the park on this extremely rainy and stormy day. The young man took just a moment to compose after all of that and then turned and started to walk quickly in the direction that he’d heard Grimmjow move off before. Since he had the hope of talking to his mother as much as he wanted it wasn’t hard to get back to the reality at hand. Ichigo’s dampened shoes slapped on the ground. It was easy to see the exotic man, because of Grimmjow’s hair, who had actually taken shelter under a children’s slide. He had thought he might find Grimm having gone back to the Lamborghini, but the platforms that kids ran up to get to the slide were actually suitable cover for the most part. Flattered that his love had waited for him so close by despite the weather Ichigo darted through the rain across concrete at first, then wet grass, then woodchips getting more wet and almost losing the umbrella as he hurried.

 

            Grimmjow was spacing out a little and noticed Ichigo when the young man got close and smiled. He felt like it had been a half an hour but he’d honestly mostly lost track of time. “Hey. Good talk?” his handsome and exotic face was smiling.

 

            “Hey, yeah it was-” Ichigo stalled as he came up and noticed a dark cat curled up by Grimmjow’s leg; it seemed to be hiding from the rain too. “Oh…a kitty, does it have tags?”

 

            Hearing Ichigo say the word ‘kitty’ was funny for some reason. Grinning Grimmjow hadn’t moved but he looked down at the furry creature as it lifted its head. “Nope.”

 

            “Of course I don’t need tags, _boy_.” A masculine voice corrected.

 

            Ichigo’s eyes popped open wide. “EH?!” That cat had just _talked_.

 

            The black cat got up and shook itself off, walking around beside Grimmjow and sharing the cover of the slide and fixtures above before it started to shift and its form rose and fully filled out into a woman with a long messy purple braid of hair, blazing yellowish eyes and chocolate skin. During this change both Ichigo and Grimmjow could see an aura around her. She crossed her arms…over bare breasts. This lady was _naked_.

 

            After realizing that he was staring at a naked woman, “AAH!” Ichigo turned his face. He’d never seen a woman _that_ naked before. “Why don’t you have clothes?! And why do you sound like a man?!”

 

            She shrugged. “It’s the way things worked out.” Now her voice was feminine.

 

            Grimmjow didn’t seem bothered at all to be standing next to a naked lady but he was amused watching Ichigo. “Ichi, this nice lady is a druid. That means she shifts shapes.” Clearly Grimm and this cat-lady had already talked a little.

 

            Ichigo calmed down and got closer to them so that it was easier to look at just her face; he was still clutching the umbrella above himself to ward off the rain. “Wh-Why are you out here? Don’t cats really hate water?” He was remembering what his mother had said about magick sensing…

 

            “Tch! Some cats…but I’m firstly a person, _boy!_ I was in the area and felt you doing something with magick and this guy was creepily watching you from under the slide…I thought he might mean your skinny butt some harm,” she explained.

 

            Admittedly, in all leather, Grimmjow did look a little menacing if he was just standing in a children’s park watching a young person across the way… Understandably sketchy. “And I told her we’re a thing so there’s no reason to be creepin’ on ya when I can just ask to see your-.”

 

            Ichigo made a face of slight irritation and cut Grimmjow off. “Don’t. Even.”

 

            “Hey. At least I didn’t tell her all the nasty things ya do to me.” Grimmjow just couldn’t help himself. “Like-”

 

            “DON’T. EVEN.” Ichigo narrowed his eyes.

 

            The woman laughed loudly. “I like your two’s moxie! My name’s Yoruichi Shihoin, like your pal said I’m a shape shifter, a druid, some people call me ‘Rain Cat’.” A nod to all the cats who did like water! She moved a hand to gesture to Grimmjow, “Your partner here said I should call him Grimmjow.”

 

            “Maybe you need a codename too…” Ichigo teased.

 

            “‘Monstrum Grimm’,” Grimmjow reminded. He’d hated it at first but the term had actually grown on him and didn’t feel as negative anymore.

 

            Yoruichi nodded her head comprehensively. “That’s pretty fitting! And what about you, young thing? You look much to sweet for this old man.” She’d heard ‘Ichi’ before but that sounded like it was short for something and real names weren’t suitable in codenames.

 

            So his mom’s mention about him meeting other magick users was coming true. Suppose it was likely when he used it in public like this and for so long, but this was definitely proof. Since he couldn’t feel anything bad about this woman with his gut or otherwise Ichigo decided to tell her. “My name’s Ichigo. Um…I don’t think I qualify for a codename…”

 

            “Sure you do, boy! We’ll make one up _right now!_ I take it you’re new at this…but it’ll help you in the long run later!” Yoruichi snapped her fingers and then started tapping one of her index ones on her chin as a swirling green mist crept up and formed clothes to cover her body. Just a short deep-green dress with some leafy-looking bracelets and green heeled sandals.

 

            “You could have put on clothes this whole time?!” Ichigo quacked.

 

            “I could have, but where’s the fun in that?” She watched him turn more reddish. What a… “‘Cherry Boy’!” You know…because he was cherry red in the face, kind of sweet and innocent like a fruit-

 

            “Hell no!” Ichigo croaked. That was completely inaccurate.

 

            Grimmjow chuckled darkly.

 

            Yoruichi tried again, “‘Strawberry Boy’?”

 

            “YOU ARE NOT NAMING ME AFTER PERVERSE THINGS OR FRUIT-” Ichigo glared daggers at Grimmjow when he realized that the man was still laughing at him.

 

            “Hee hee hee…” Grimmjow couldn’t have shut himself up at the moment even if he wanted to.

 

            “Shut up Grimm!”

 

            This still didn’t stop Grimmjow from laughing it actually made the man laugh harder. “‘Berry Butt’.” Grimmjow was opting for this one – bold of him to tease.

 

            It was Yoruichi’s turn to have a laugh, and boy did she laugh hard. “That would be cute!”

 

            “No it wouldn’t!” Ichigo’s eyes darkened and his face stayed red because this was all embarrassing.

 

            “Berry Butt…” Grimmjow remarked while he continued to grin.

 

            “Say that again…” Ichigo dared.

 

            Grimmjow leaned forward with a smirk and opened his mouth.

 

            Ichigo in quickly, “How much do you like getting laid?”

 

            Grimmjow’s eyes widened a little and he swallowed his words. “Jeeze…” Now that was something he didn’t want to be cut off from for just a quick laugh.

 

            Yoruichi was still amusedly observing. Well it was very apparent who was dominant in _this_ relationship with the younger getting the older to fall in line like that. What a tough cookie.

 

            Ichigo resumed his almost dignified state clutching the umbrella as he stood halfway under the fixture overhead leading to the slide and watched smugly as Grimmjow pouted.

 

            Back to the task at hand Yoruichi was seriously trying to think now. “Well what kinds of magick do you do, Ichi-boy?”

 

            “Not much yet…” Ichigo admitted.

 

            “Then what kinds of things do you like?” Yoruichi pushed.

 

            Grimmjow immediately lifted his hands and started poking a finger through a hole in his other hand mouthing the words ‘sex magick’; apparently his pouting was short-lived.

 

            Ichigo was embarrassed again, “Grimmjow I swear to-”

 

            “Call him by his _codename_ ,” Yoruichi interrupted insistently.

 

            Ichigo sighed, exasperated, “‘Monstrum Grimm’, if you ever want to get laid again you will _stop that_. That is strike two!” He’d already warned him once.

 

            Grimmjow quit it immediately and returned to pouting.

 

            Yoruichi’s lips curled into a smile. “Ok! Ok! I’ve got it! You’re ‘Dom Go’!” Like ‘dominate’ and ‘Ichigo’ badly slapped together.

 

            “No! That still sounds like a food!” ‘Dango’ was way too close to that. Ichigo raised a flat hand to stop her. “And that would be too funny, no one would take me seriously.” He wanted to be taken seriously!

 

            Grimmjow was watching Yoruichi more and trying not to laugh because he didn’t want Ichigo to ban him from sex on strike three. He believed that Ichigo would actually do it if he pushed him too much.

 

            “Well shoot you’re so picky-” Yoruichi stalled as she saw the palm of Ichigo’s hand… She stared at the light rune upon it.

 

            Ichigo realized what she was looking at and quickly brought his hand back. “Forget you saw that!”

 

            Yoruichi shook her head. “‘Blood Hand’! ‘Blood Hand’ would be perfect!”

 

            Ichigo didn’t immediately reject this one. That was admittedly a decent and he supposed it made sense; however now he knew just how obvious his rune’s nature might be to others. He would probably have to be a lot more careful keeping it hidden in the future.

 

            Grimmjow’s brows went up and he smirked slightly. “That one’s real good. I think you should keep it,” he responded with a mention that had him transferring eyes from Yoruichi to Ichigo; he actually did think it was pretty clever.

 

            “Wouldn’t that be too obvious for-” Ichigo had started.

 

            “I don’t think anyone who’d look at you would imagine that you’re capable of _blood_ magick. That is a rune you carved _yourself_ , right?” Yoruichi pressed. “Blood magick is really rare.” Since it was actually very challenging to work with.

 

            “Alright… I guess it’s not as bad as ‘Dom Go’…” Ichigo at least had to admit that.

 

            “Alright! ‘Blood Hand’ and ‘Monstrum Grimm’. Your codenames match so well!” Yoruichi looked Grimmjow up and down, she still had no idea what kind of magick that the exotic looking man actually did because he wouldn’t tell her, partially because he didn’t fully know, but even then her not knowing might’ve been for the best. “I’ll remember those, but I have to get going. A pleasure meeting you two. I’ll look forward to running into you guys again! It was getting lonely around here with all the others moving out.”

 

            Grimmjow looked curious, “What’d ya mean?”

 

            Yoruichi was stalled from stepping out into the rain. “Oh people around here who used to do magick have just been up and leaving. There’s something rancid in Florentine City apparently. Since Karakura’s close I guess some are probably just trying to get the hell away and others are attracted to it.”

 

            Grimmjow and Ichigo both looked at each other with nervous expressions.

 

            Yoruichi turned and watched them for a moment in interest. “What? You know something?”

 

            “I hope that wasn’t me…” Grimmjow started.

 

            Ichigo’s thoughts had to agree now that he knew what kind of magick Grimmjow had in him.

 

            “Eh?!” Yoruichi looked puzzled. “It’s bigger than one person I can guarantee you that, no matter what magick you practice ‘Monstrum Grimm’, _trust me_. I’m sure you’re sizable but…these are gross pockets of rancid magick being planted probably and spreading from the sources.”

 

            “When did this start happening?” Ichigo squinted.

 

            “A week ago,” Yoruichi explained. “Say. If you find anything out about it come to a shop in the market district of Karakura, ‘Kisuke Kink’. I work there and I have a good friend you can call ‘Green Moth’ who would be interested in information. I’ll tell him your names just in case. He’s annoying but otherwise a good guy, I _promise_.” She wouldn’t have shared if they didn’t seem like the type to care too. “Look for a hat and prehistoric wooden sandals.”

 

            “‘Kink’?” Grimmjow probed.

 

            “We sell normal and magickal sex toys, don’t judge. You two might even benefit from our merchandise.”

 

            “Hey, I was a stripper until a month ago. I’m not gonna judge.” That was very reassuring from Grimmjow.

 

            Ichigo looked mortified. He didn’t want a sex toy sprinkled with fairy dust for lack of a better imagination!

 

            Yoruichi barked a laugh, odd for a cat but maybe she had a canine side in there too – somewhere. “Well buy a toy while you’re in! ‘Green Moth’ would just love that, he complains about not enough business as it is.” With a wave she walked out into the rain and in a green poof dropped down into a catty form again, starting to trot away. “Have a nice day, boys!” her masculine tone of voice rang out before the heavy rain seemed to swallow her form up and Yoruichi was gone.

 

            Ichigo still found that it was strange that a female had a masculine voice when shifting forms; then again he’d never seen a druid before. He looked toward Grimmjow who came over to stand under the umbrella. Ichigo put the bag he held over his shoulder and wrapped an arm around Grimmjow.

 

            Grimmjow was pleased for that. “Ya think we can trust her?”

 

            “Yes, I think she’s fine. My mom told me this would happen, meeting more people who use magick and them being able to sense ours.”

 

            “‘Ours’?”

 

            “You’ve got black magick about you. She said that you might be able to learn to control your dark form and…we also um…can’t have sex and kiss and stuff if you’re like that or it’ll royally screw me up… So yeah…”

 

            Grimmjow grinned a little, “So no kinky dark sex?”

 

            “Yeah, no…I promise you I already thought about that.”

 

            Grimmjow snorted in amusement. “ _Darn_. Well I appreciate the thought. Too bad. I guess it’s a good thing your fantasy is to fuck me as virgin in white then? Just _boooring_ old normal sex.”

 

            Yeah…right. Ichigo groaned and put his forehead against Grimmjow’s leather-covered shoulder. “I thought you’d forgotten about that…” He was embarrassed to realize otherwise.

 

            “Nope. I promised ya I’d give ya that fantasy and I will.”

 

            “You better not buy any weird toys from that shop if we go there.”

 

            “Maybe as a present.”

 

            “I don’t need any!”

 

            “Why’s that? Ya do have some sex toys around somewhere don’t ya?”

 

            “What does it matter?!”

 

            “Oooh. Ya fibbed to me before, ya said ya didn’t have any.”

 

            “I have one dildo! And that’s _it!_ ”

 

            “Do ya know what anal beads are?”

 

            Ichigo shoved off of Grimmjow and stole the umbrella, leaving the man to get soaked and started storming off toward the Lamborghini. “YOU ARE VERY CLOSE TO STRIKE THREE.”

 

            Grimmjow had pulled up his collar and gone hurrying after an embarrassed Ichigo. “How about a butt plug? Sounders? Prostate massager?”

 

            “GRIMM. YOU ARE LIVING DANGEROUSLY RIGHT NOW.”


	62. Birthday Sex and the Artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings per this chapter: *points at chapter title* seeeeeeex and a small bit of character development (or hints of such)

**Chapter Sixty-Two**

_“Birthday Sex and the Artist”_

 

            After the last of a fall’s season faded the snowy and cold winter of this year brought no danger to the pair of lovers; it was a reprieve welcomed. While Grimmjow worked on restoring stabilization to his life, Ichigo was progressing ever closer to the end of his high school experience and growing quite practiced with magick in his spare time. Yoruichi, their new druid friend hadn’t seen them come by the shop she’d mentioned but had figured out that Ichigo’s presence nearby wasn’t just coincidence, that the young man actually attended the high school by the park, and took it upon herself to follow him around whenever he was outside or sit in the windows of his classrooms. At first it had been much to Ichigo’s annoyance as he was worried that his classmates would see him speaking to a cat but Yoruichi stayed in her catty forms, once and a while the druidess turned up as something else, but was never obvious enough to clue anyone else in.

 

            It was now deep into spring and with the passing of time and company Yoruichi was now considered a friend as much as any of Ichigo’s classmates were to him; she’d taught him a bit about druidic and nature magick, providing other sorts of advice, even counseling him when he was feeling discouraged from botched or difficult spells and studies. Ichigo would wisely run some of her theories and advice by his mother on their chats; Ichigo had found her teacup that he’d located in the kitchen some time ago to be quite useful for communing with his mother’s spirit. Additionally he was using the afore mentioned extra resources that she said should still be around somewhere; Isshin had dug them out of storage for his son. Grimmjow’s contact with the woman, Yoruichi, was much less but he didn’t seem to mind Ichigo having any sorts of friends – he was not a jealous man. However Grimmjow did keep an eye out for anything about Ichigo that seemed radical or dangerous and sudden, as he didn’t want anything that Yoruichi might teach to hurt the enthusiastic young man. Nothing seemed harmful so far.

 

            One particular day, during this spring, Grimmjow had surprised Ichigo with a ride to school. Showing up without warning to pick Ichigo up at the Kurosaki house Grimmjow badly winked at Isshin and Yuzu, while they winked back with assurance. Grimmjow had paused before he and Ichigo had left the house and handed the young man a wrapped-up box. The golden paper and silvery string tied around it were so elegant and richly appealing that it was just a wonder what was in this thing…

 

            Ichigo had torn away the paper and held a clean-looking white box, pulling the well-fitted top off there was a brand-new touch-screen cellphone in there with wireless earbuds and a solid silver bracelet of small chain links. That phone had data, calls, texting, the works. The wireless earbuds were an excellent brand and a cool orange color. The bracelet was perfectly masculine and classy. Delighted Ichigo playfully accused Grimmjow of really trying to be a sugar daddy and the cerulean haired man corrected him. It was a birthday present, or _presents_ – plural. Ichigo’s birthday was today. The young man had forgotten about it _completely!_ The presents were from Grimm and Ichigo’s family; he hugged Grimmjow so tightly when he’d realized. Ichigo was planning to thank his father and sisters later because they’d escaped back into the house. Grimmjow explained that he’d bought himself a nice cellphone to use too. It was a matter of convenience so that he could work more easily and to stay in contact with Ichigo; the young man obviously felt like these were pretty damn good reasons and he’d never been so excited to have a cellphone before – after all his old one had very much gathered dust since breaking up with Renji. On top of this Ichigo got to enjoy a ride to school with his love, and in a cheesy way that was probably the best present already.

 

            When Ichigo got out of class the first thing he did was text Grimmjow on his new phone: ‘please come and get me, we’ve got something to do’. He was extremely excited about _something_ …to use the word ‘elated’ wasn’t a stretch. Ichigo and his friends waited around after school and rattled on and on with teenage conversation about the stupid homework, grades, dumb teachers, lunch and the lunch menu changing into hobbies, books, movies and subjects away from school entirely…even though today marked the day when Ichigo was no longer a teenager – twenty years old. It was a mass of happy chattering and excitement between Ichigo, Orihime, Chad, Uryuu, Kiego and even Mizuiro, another of Ichigo’s friends. They also wished him a happy birthday, of course it was already happy but double the good wishes were welcomed anyway.

 

            Grimmjow easily found a way into the student parking lot, as he’d done before, and texted Ichigo that he’d arrived and promptly cranked his seat back, relaxed and let the Lamborghini run on auxiliary power with his music up at full blast. He was not hard to find – intentionally.

 

            When Ichigo realized the text he parted from his friends and approached the Lamborghini. He seized opportunity after lifting up the passenger’s door and before Grimmjow could really straighten up Ichigo’s belongings were dropped on the floormats and the twenty-year-old flopped across the center console and grabbed the man with an impressive hold and absolutely smothered Grimmjow from the neck up. If the music wasn’t so loud they might’ve heard the commentary and chuckling of others noticing them being stupid and affectionate. To be young and in love… When Ichigo finally let go leaving a ‘just had sex’ fluff in Grimmjow’s previously neat cerulean hair and the man had a pretty surprised look on his face. The tangerine haired young man turned the music down enough to speak. “This has literally been the best birthday ever. Thank you _so_ much.” He’d had a lot of fun with his fancy new phone, been able to use his earbuds during gym and free periods and gotten a ton of compliments on his silvery bracelet. “Can I ask you to take me somewhere too?”

 

            “Uh?” Grimmjow snapped back fully to reality and centered his handsome gaze on Ichigo; he noticed that the young man was wearing the silver chain bracelet and smirked. “Ok sure, but anywhere specific?”

 

            “I want to apply for a job, so that I can buy you things too and live on my own and get clothes and more parts for my car and…” There it was. All of the thoughts just came pouring out of Ichigo and his reasons ran on nonstop, even into the humorously excitable.

 

            Among all of the gushing over this sudden idea to get a job, which felt like an unusual request on one’s birthday, Grimmjow finally had to at least say, “Ok! Ok! We’ll go, but you’ve gotta work _somewhere_ and I don’t know where to take ya in that case.” He chuckled because Ichigo hadn’t even specified where he planned to work! “Do ya-”

 

            The tangerine haired young man was practically bouncing in the passenger seat and very insistent. “I know where I want to work!” Ichigo’s hands were diving into his bookbag and rummaging for a paper. When he had it, Ichigo proudly slapped the paper onto the center console.

 

            Grimmjow leaned down with a squint to read. “‘Mythical library opening…’?” It took a second. Grimmjow realized what this meant and looked up cracking a smile. “Ooooh, so ya wanna work somewhere that deals with magick huh?” Granted over Ichigo’s practicing Grimmjow had seen proof of the young man’s talents and growing skill at it in various forms…Grimm himself had been turned into a rabbit, a cat, a squirrel and a moose more than once as part of the practice. His tolerance for being transformed was thin but it was there so long as Ichigo always turned him back into a man afterward. Ichigo was also capable of levitating objects, growing plants, breathing and throwing fire, seeing a short distance into the future and in the dark, scrying, conjuring, changing the colors and properties of living and nonliving things and even turning invisible. Nothing was quite as bizarre as being fucked by the invisible man…but Grimmjow could say he was a fan of it firsthand. “This sounds cool for ya, but are ya sure that this place is the real deal, genuine like what you’re looking for?”

 

            Ichigo shrugged, “I’ll have to find out.” He was wise not to put too much stock into this place being legitimate.

 

            Grimmjow tapped a finger on the paper against the center console. “Where did ya get this?”

 

            “A cultural and historical faire that the school had today for the entire student body.” The young man practically glowed as he snatched the paper and started putting the address for the place into his phone and its phone number. Grimmjow didn’t have to say a word, Ichigo pulled it right up on a map and shoved the GPS map in the exotic man’s face. “It’s a real place at least, see? It’s like ten minutes from here and five minutes from my house!”

 

            Grimmjow studied that map before he buckled back up and-

 

            Watching Grimmjow Ichigo’s thoughts stalled as he saw the man draw a strap across himself and click it into place. “Wait a minute…I thought you absolutely hated those. Like they made you really nervous and stuff.” The seatbelt.

 

            As Grimmjow turned the modified Lamborghini’s engine back on with an impressive rumble he looked over at Ichigo with a smile. “I doubt a car accident would actually kill me, but I figured I could make ya feel safer about either of us riding along or diving. Whichever.”

 

            Pleased, in a sentimental and maturely satisfied way, Ichigo sat down properly and buckled in too. “Sometimes I wonder if you ever do anything exclusively for yourself.”

 

            Grimmjow shrugged. “I think masturbation still counts.”

 

~

 

_[Late that afternoon…]_

            Instead of staying at the Kurosaki household nearby after checking out the magickal library and finding that it was actually closed for the day, Grimmjow and Ichigo chose to make their end destination the place where Grimmjow was living. They’d mostly stopped by Ichigo’s house because it was close and so that the young man could thank his family for his presents, he was extremely grateful, and change into normal clothes. Now the pair of lovers were on their way to the closed tool store and garage where Grimmjow’s comfortable loft was at, in an older area of Florentine City. It was their idea to relax for the rest of the day together, and Ichigo wanted Grimmjow to himself. As the afternoon turned rainy the Lamborghini neared the building and was driven down a small two-way street then turned into a skinny alleyway made for only one car at a time; this was the route back to the huge garage at the rear of the building – the front, seen on the main two-lane street, was where the tool-store had been. The old sign out front had long-since been covered up and there were hardly any other businesses open or people living anywhere on this forsaken strip. It was nice and secluded. For Grimmjow right now it was almost hard to keep the sportscar going straight because Ichigo had unbuckled himself and was leaning over and kissing and tugging on him in a heavily distracting manner since they’d turned into the alleyway, yet somehow the man managed. Grimmjow’s lust bubbled intensely. Spring rain, warm but plentiful, poured over the buildings around them, washing at the stone and streets. Down the alley there was a small empty parking area that was really only big enough for maybe ten cars to park in straight spaces. On the opposite side of the narrow area were five huge doors that led into the massive garage. It was down this alley that Grimmjow had pushed and pulled the Lamborghini around, as well as backed up a truck and car hauler into, as the custom vehicle was being built some years ago. It had taken some crazy kind of skill, but this place was just like home and Grimmjow was exceptionally glad to be back here. Among Ichigo’s limbs pulling on him, Grimmjow hit a button on a remote inside the Lamborghini and the middle one of the five garage doors started to roll up with an electric hum. The young man in the car beside him was not letting up, hell if Grimmjow minded, he was actually pleased to have Ichigo all over him.

 

            Ichigo pulled on the exotic man’s jaw and shoulders.

 

            The lights in the garage automatically came on. Grimmjow could feel his pulse pounding.

 

            Ichigo would have come across the car and manhandled the second body if it weren’t the fact that Grimmjow forcibly parted lips just so he could pull into the garage.

 

            There was no way he was leaving his dear possession out in the rain. The Lamborghini rolled into the garage through the center door and was shut off just inside and then the door the door started to close behind it by pressing the remote’s button again. Now Ichigo’s hands were forcefully pulling off Grimmjow’s seatbelt, jacket and shirt. With sweat and lust boiling over himself, Grimmjow turned to the young man who was being forceful with him and started kissing Ichigo again as soon as his torso was bare. All it took was a little attention from Ichigo and Grimmjow was as hard as stone for this sweet-faced fellow.

 

            Ichigo couldn’t stop himself. Lips smothered each other for lengthy minutes as Ichigo was doing the lion’s share to pull their clothing off in the tight space of the Lamborghini. Grimmjow was still currently shirtless with unbuttoned pants and Ichigo was more than half-way to naked with his shoes, shirt and pants off left wearing white boxers and white calf-high socks still but that was it. At a point though Ichigo managed to get a few words in, “Do you need to clean up first?”

 

            “Yeah probably,” Grimmjow muttered as his bare chest rose and fell with pants and after a few more sensual minutes at sucking face they managed to get out of the car. Grimmjow’s jacket fell half-way out of the door and the zipper clacked on the floor. He didn’t close the uplifted butterfly door on the driver’s side.

 

            Ichigo was terribly fixated on two things right now: cleaning up and banging the sense out of Grimm and he paid little attention to anything else around them. He’d gotten out, knocking one of his stray shoes onto the garage floor and also didn’t close his door as he came around the front of the rain-drenched Lamborghini and got a hold of Grimmjow.

 

            It was hard to say how they got to the bathroom, stumbling together and kissing and sucking on flesh as Ichigo pulled off the rest of Grimmjow’s and his own clothing on their way. There was a bread-crumb trail of clothing across the otherwise neat and clean, brightly lit garage.

 

            They’d stumbled by the stereos and speaker system for the place and Grimmjow had grasped at the remote, nearly dropping it and switched the system on. A series of blaringly loud rock songs started to pour out of the garage-wide speakers and then the pair carried on stumbling toward the bathroom.

 

            Ichigo had Grimmjow pinned up against the bathroom door, on the same ground level as the garage, at the far end of the huge echoing space and fumbled for the knob. Turning it the door opened and he backed Grimmjow into the clean, tiled room and flicked on the lights. It was modified quite a while ago to be a personal bathroom. They didn’t close the door.

 

            Ichigo was so tempted to fuck Grimmjow right there in the shower but he bided his time, having a better idea. They’d still managed to fog up the open bathroom and gotten water everywhere. Grimmjow was getting out of the shower first with about four or five hickeys already appearing dark around his neck and shoulders when Ichigo followed him out closely after roughly shutting the water off. The young man grabbed his lover by the arm and turned the man around. Ichigo lifted Grimmjow onto the counter by the sink and just kept kissing him and stroking down every inch of Grimmjow’s wet, godly body. There was a brisk chill from the open bathroom door but neither of them seemed to care much, and of course the rock music was still blaring through the space so much that they could hardly hear anything else.

 

            Grimmjow didn’t mind that sensual petting at all and went along with it, pulling Ichigo closer and whining when the young man only stroked his cock for a minute or two. Then Ichigo did something that Grimmjow wasn’t used to; he picked him up and started carrying him. “Woah!” Grimmjow was admittedly nervous to be dropped until he realized how sure Ichigo’s hold was. Suppose Ichigo did look like he’d put on a some more muscle with all of his magickal practices and added physical activity. Grimmjow clung to the young man with arms around shoulders and legs hooked around Ichigo’s hips as Ichigo’s mouth pleasured him and more of a chill came as they left the bathroom behind. The music throughout the garage was especially loud out here. He wondered how Ichigo would get him up the stairs to the loft so that they could-

 

            As the tangerine haired young man carried Grimmjow out of the bathroom, sucking on his neck and biting him, he didn’t try to climb the stairs to the loft, instead he stopped in front of the Lamborghini, across the garage.

 

            Grimmjow’s lust slammed into gear as he realized what was going on. This turned him on, it turned him on so much.

 

            Without a word of explanation, actually not necessary, Ichigo spared a hand and touched the hood – washed clean by the rain. Since the sportscar had been sitting for a little while it was warm but not burning. The music continued to shake the walls of the garage and the stony concrete floor. Grimmjow’s back hit the warm, sleek metal of the front of the hood and Ichigo planted hands on either side of him and leaned over.

 

            Exceptionally turned on by this Grimmjow’s hands grabbed at Ichigo’s torso as the young man came down on him and ground their bare, fleshy bodies together on top of the sleek black sportscar.

 

            When Ichigo’s hands moved down and picked the man’s hips up and positioned himself, still being leaned over but lining his cock up with Grimm’s hole, which he’d already kind of been teasing in the shower, he pushed in slow to make that feeling of initial and raw penetration last.

 

            Grimmjow felt like his mind was going to explode, there was an amount of heat burning in his gut and lower body that was comparable to the engine below the hood that he was on.  It had been a while since Ichigo had fucked him bare and raw, nor did he mind it. Panting raggedly as Ichigo worked his way in and then slowly started to fuck the man, Grimmjow’s clinging hands on Ichigo held tighter and euphorically whined his pleasure among the sundering loud music, growls and guitars and heavily beaten drums… It was just too good, even if it was raw and took a little more care to get into really fucking…this turned him on a lot.

 

            Admittedly close to as turned on as Grimmjow, Ichigo’s skin was on fire and his gut turned with lust and balls with need as Grimmjow’s trained body allowed him in and hot blood pumped surging and boiling. Lips tangled with Grimmjow’s and they’d knocked teeth once or twice but not painfully hard as Ichigo rocked his hips and worked up to the desired friction. Even though the kissing was hot Ichigo straightened up, standing as he really got into pounding Grimmjow’s sculped ass and staring down at the mess that he’d made of this man…and fuck if that wasn’t hot. Ichigo’s hand beat off Grimmjow’s straining erection in time with the pounding that slightly rocked the parked sportscar.

 

            Grimmjow didn’t want anything less than an absolute pounding usually, right now especially… He loved racy and thrilling sex. Back against the warm hood of his own sleek sportscar, with arms laid out and mouth open, panting out his every breath – forced out, his lustful body writhed and arched. The metal was smooth and wet, he slid back and forth slightly and could feel the car rocking just a little as Ichigo’s legs resting on it were probably the shifting weight causing that. He felt like fire, hot and unbearably sweltering with a need burning through his groin and gut and the softer flesh of his thighs. It was a feeling that was even kind of creeping up into his chest. Being fucked on top of his own car…Grimmjow wanted to cum, to feel such a release from this carnal pleasure, he wanted it so badly.

 

            Ichigo could feel sweat rolling down his body and limbs as he watched Grimmjow writhe like he’d lost his mind over the hood of the modified Lamborghini; he knew that the man _wasn’t trying_ to exaggerate anything, and just that fact meaning Grimmjow was so hopelessly turned on perpetuated Ichigo’s lust even more than just the friction of fucking the man…something very satisfying about pleasing a lover so much.

 

            After long minutes of hard fucking, and Ichigo thumb – separate from the hand jerking the man off – up against the gland under Grimmjow’s balls, it was just a matter of time until one of them couldn’t take it and blew first…that would be _Grimmjow_. Challenging as it could be to force Grimmjow to cum first, the man typically had stamina for days, this time his eyes closed and his cock shot cum probably five feet up and it came down on himself and his car.

 

            Ichigo leaned over and put his hands down on the hood again as Grimmjow’s breaths softened and the man’s head rolled side to side while he went through the intense come-down of his high-octane orgasm. Ichigo pounded fast and bit the front of Grimmjow’s shoulder as his body bucked feverishly as he started to cum. He packed his seed deep into Grimmjow and just didn’t let up until the surging and twitching of his cock and drawn-up balls stopped. The euphoria of this washed over Ichigo’s exhausted form as he leaned down another level on forearms and managed to keep his head up enough to see Grimmjow’s face.

 

            The man’s blue eyes were open again and watching as Ichigo’s looked over him. They both breathed hard, gradually becoming aware of where they were again, probably for a second at least disbelieving that this had really happened because it was just so damn good. Grimmjow’s hands reached up and cupped Ichigo’s fair and smooth shaven face. “I love ya so fuckin’ much…” His head lifted shakily off of the hood of the car and pressed his lips onto Ichigo’s again. The rest of his body trembled with satisfaction.

 

            Ichigo accepted that and reached up behind Grimmjow’s head to support the man’s neck. Feeling a high level of satisfaction just like his lover, he stayed inside of Grimm even though his dick was relaxing, kissing those soft and desirable lips and holding onto Grimmjow like the man was his life itself. He had barely been able to hear Grimmjow over the rock music but he was able to read the man’s lips just fine. He loved him too; this damn sexy man…

 

~

 

            “Mmmnn…” Grimmjow woke up in his bed in the loft, stirring groggily and sore. He didn’t quite remember yesterday yet but it had been intense, that was for sure. He noticed that Ichigo was a messy unconscious heap under the covers beside him and gently lifted the young man’s fair-skinned arm that was draped over himself so that he could get up and take a piss.

 

            Stubborn or just really tired still Ichigo stirred slightly and then pulled his arm back and the covers up. There were hickeys and love bites all over Grimmjow and one or two on Ichigo himself.

 

            Grimmjow smiled, sliding off of the edge of the bed. He remembered now… Ichigo had fucked him on the hood of the Lamborghini. The man’s cock twitched uncomfortably reminding him that it was already swollen enough because he needed to relieve himself but that memory was very hot. Still waking himself up Grimmjow stumbled out of the small single-room loft like a half-drunken man trying to find his bearings and went down the stairs from the loft to the ground floor without falling over himself.

 

            Ichigo slowly woke up more as the loft’s single door ‘clacked’ shut when Grimmjow made his way out. “Nnnn..?” He rolled onto his back under the warm covers and smiled, feeling a residual satisfaction, as his eyes opened slowly and stared up at the dark grey ceiling. He couldn’t feel Grimmjow right next to him but the bed there was still warm so the man had to be around somewhere close. That had been such a great twentieth birthday, he felt a little sore now but otherwise really good…slowly Ichigo began to wonder what time it was. The young man had to sit up, peering about for a clock around the fairly modest room because he couldn’t find his cellphone. The only thing about this space that made it slightly remarkable was the fact that Grimmjow had managed to get a _king-sized_ bed in here on a frame…and maybe also the numerous detailed and framed hand-drawn diagrams of vehicles decorating the walls. Noticing these again Ichigo forgot about the time, he stared at the framed drawings one by one in the dim light. Grimmjow had shown these to him before when he’d visited but looking at them never got old. The one on the wall over the headboard was the Lamborghini. The others were various vehicles that Grimmjow had seen in the shop or imagined up over the years. There were about thirty of them of all types…supercars, motorcycles, hotrods, boats, even rigs for rock crawling detailed and drawn to the very last bolt. How Grimmjow could make marks on paper so small and precise boggled Ichigo’s mind but it was _amazing_. He liked waking up in this room a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've lost track of how many sex scenes have been written in this story. lol


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